


The Ministry of Snakes

by Grooot



Series: The Ministry of Snakes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-23 22:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grooot/pseuds/Grooot
Summary: Hermione Granger, employee of the Magical Entity Rights Commission has travelled to Azkaban to review rumours of prisoner mistreatment. During her visit, she stumbles across someone that she was pretty sure was dead when she attended their funeral.





	1. Azkaban

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote another thing. It’s pretty much complete, so expect the same close, but sporadic posting from me. No limp wands in this one alas, but I try to get to shoving in more humour once the premise is set up. I’ve added some Snape POV in later chapters and tried to wedge more Snape in generally, as that seemed to be a common comment on the other story.
> 
> Fair warning, this story has:  
> * Ron, Harry and Hermione as a strong friendship group  
> * Reformed Draco

Hermione Granger waited just inside the front entrance of Azkaban with a small amount of impatience. She was supposed to have been met by her escort ten minutes ago. She sighed, bloody Azkaban. She was here in her capacity with the Magical Entity Rights Commission to review the status of prisoner treatment. It had been a request from the Opposition, who had heard from a source that prisoners were being routinely tortured. The Minister had blocked attempts from the Opposition members to schedule a visit, but had arranged for a member of the Commission to attend. That member had woken up that morning with Spattergroit, So here Hermione was.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Shouted a voice. The guard jogged down the hall. “Sorry about being late, I’m not even supposed to be on shift today, but half the staff came down with Spattergroit. I was called in at the last minute.”

“No worries.” Said Hermione. “It’s a pretty routine check I think.”

The Auror guard introduced himself as Bastian and he looked very young, even to Hermione. She didn’t remember him from the lower years in Hogwarts, but he might have gone to one of the European schools. They began her review. Two hundred checks later Hermione was a little bored and her feet hurt. They were rounding the last corridor towards the exit when Hermione stopped.

“What about that one?” Hermione asked, stopping in front of it of a very inconspicuous door. Too purposely inconspicuous, thought Hermione. Bastian grimaced.

“Oh, he’s narky that one. Come in but get your wand out.” Hermione raised an eyebrow in unspoken question. She withdrew her wand and they entered the door to another corridor. She stopped immediately.

“Dementors were supposed to be completely removed from Azkaban years ago.” She said. That was right, yet two floated down a very dank looking hallway, large as.......life....she supposed.

“Oh were they?” Asked Bastian. “These have been here since I started working shifts in Azkaban.”

“Who’s in there?” Asked Hermione, pointing at the room.

“Prisoner 85. He’s a handful. They keep him stunned most of the time these days.”

Hermione looked in Bastian in confusion after checking her scroll.

“He isn’t on this list, I’ll have to observe him too.” Bastian nodded. They cast their patronus charm and two silvery animals cornered the dementors in a far section of the hall while Bastian moved to unlock the door.

“So why stunned? Surely he doesn’t have a wand?” Hermione asked, making some notes on her scroll.

“He fights. Physically.” Bastian explained. “Last time he broke the arms of two guards and concussed a third. He was halfway down the hall before the dementors took him down.”

“Riiiiiiiight.” Said Hermione. This was odd. Very odd. There was absolutely no record of this prisoner on the register she was given and he was being guarded by...never mind.... they were illegal now at any rate.

Bastian opened the door. “Well, there he is.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Said Hermione. The prisoner was bound to a bed, blindfolded and motionless but obviously Severus Snape.

——————————————

“Just calm down.” Said Harry. “Have a cup of tea or something. KREACHER!” He shouted. Kreacher appeared and very grudgingly placed a pot of tea with several cups on the kitchen table.

“Ok, start again.” Harry said calmly. It was a testament to how stressed Hermione was that she didn’t even scold Harry for not making the tea himself, but just took a shaking sip.

“He’s alive! In Azkaban.” Hermione said in disbelief leaning back in the chair.

“Who’s alive?” Asked Harry in confusion.

“Professor Snape!” Said Hermione. Harry shook his head.

“No way.” Harry said, but Hermione looked at him mutinously so he continued. “Ok, think about it Hermione. We were there when he died. We saw his body. We took his body back to Hogwarts. We buried his body. You got all shitty until the Ministry had a proper memorial. He. Is. Dead.”

“Well then I guess his identical twin is imprisoned in Azkaban.” Insisted Hermione. “I tell you I saw him!”

“You saw someone that looked like him.” Argued Harry. Hermione threw up her hands in frustration.

“You guys realise you are shouting right?” Said Ron sleepily as he entered the kitchen. He’d been rostered on night shifts so had been napping.

“Sorry Ron,” Apologised Harry, “Hermione’s just having a psychotic episode.” Hermione tossed a coaster at his head.

“I am not you arsehat! I know what I saw!”

Ron said down and poured himself a cup. “What’s going on?”

“Hermione here saw Snape locked up in Azkaban during her review this morning.” Harry said. Ron took a long, measured drag of his tea and looked at a Hermione, eyes narrowed.

“Alright.” He said. “What do you want to do about it?” He asked. Hermione beamed and Harry turned to Ron.

“What the hell? Ron! He’s dead.” Ron held up a hand.

“All I know is that Hermione has a proven track record in being right, and for once I want to be ahead of the game instead of ignoring her then apologising later when everything goes to shit.”

“Thank you Ron.” Hermione said smugly and raised an eyebrow at Harry, who ran his hand through his hair and laughed ruefully.

“Ok, so you have a point. A good point. Ok, maybe a great point. Should we tell the Ministry?” Harry asked. Hermione looked thoughtful.

“No. Not yet. I’ll turn in my report, but no mention of the Professor. And I’ll do a bit of digging.”

————————-

The next morning Hermione hadn’t even begun to get her head around how and what to dig when she was summoned by the Minister to present her report, a full six hours before it was due. Thankfully, Hermione was well-versed in Ministry dirty tricks and had written everything up the night before.

“Thank you for undertaking the review on such short notice.” Said Lincoln Carding, the Minister for Magic. “I was very surprised to hear you had been sent out on such a trifling matter. Very surprised.” He had dead looking eyes, thought Hermione, flat and bureaucratic.

“All part of the job.” Said Hermione, placing her report in from of him. It was only a few feet long.

“Any significant compliance breaches?” Asked Lincoln, pulling the scroll toward him. Hermione thought he sounded worried, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what about.

“No Sir. Only minor issues relating to cleanliness and quality of food.” She said. The Minister seemed relieved. He sighed.

“Excellent. Excellent. Well, thank you again.” He waved her out, stowing the scroll in a drawer.

“Yes Sir.” Said Hermione, and left to return to her desk. That was her original intention in any case, and so what if the way back took her past all the Ministry records relating to Azkaban. There was such a thing as happy coincidence after all, Hermione thought to herself. Further to this, she accidentally took a turn through the section holding all the war records and unfortunately her robe caught on a stack of scrolls relating to the death of one Severus Snape. She managed to read every one as she returned them to their proper place.

Back at her desk Hermione pondered on what she had read. According to the Azkaban prison records, Prisoner 85 was Augustus Rookwood. He had been imprisoned after that truly awful Department of Mysteries crapshoot but escaped during the mass breakout. According to the notes, he was rounded up again after the final battle and thrown into Azkaban. Hermione was incredibly sceptical, Rookwood was tall with dark hair like Snape, but she’d remembered his pock-marked skin when his mask had fallen during the Ministry fight. The man tied to that bed, under the blindfold, well, you could see his skin was smooth. She was convinced it was Snape. His death records were complete, and with no living next of kin identified, his house and belongings were indentured to the Ministry. But it was Snape, she’d stake everything on it. Hermione frowned, but what to do about it?

She hadn’t told the Auror guard Bastian that she recognised Snape. She’d explained away her sudden explosion of profanity by suggesting that tying a prisoner to the bed and blindfolding them was in breach of the Magical Entity Rights. Bastian had looked concerned, but Hermione had added that given the circumstances of previous violence by the prisoner, she wasn’t going to make a record of it if she could be assured the practice would be abolished.

When she apparated back home to Grimmauld Place she was able to update Harry and Ron on what she had learnt, or not, as the case was.

“So, you think the Ministry grabbed Snape, bunged him in Azkaban for the last six years. Then they faked a body—that we buried mind you—and then covered the whole thing up?” Harry said skeptically.

“Um. Yes.”

“That’s a bit nefarious don’t you think?” Asked Harry.

“This is the same government that said you were lying about Voldy and employed Umbridge.” Hermione pointed out.

“Ok sure. But let’s say you are right, how do you break someone out of Azkaban?” Harry asked. Hermione rubbed her temples.

“We’ve broken into lots of places before.”

“And nearly got killed.” Harry reminded her.

Ron came down the stairs ready for his night shift.

“What are we talking about?” He asked.

“Breaking into Azkaban or breaking Snape out. Or both.” Said Harry. Ron laughed.

“Ok, well just let me know the plan when I get home.”

“You know who’d probably have an idea.” Suggested Hermione slowly.

“If you say Malfoy....” Threatened Harry.

“Well he would!” Insisted Hermione. “He’s at least had a connection to it.”

“Boo hiss.” Sulked Harry, but he didn’t stop Hermione from dashing off a quick request for advice on a ‘hypothetical scenario’ and sending it via owl to Draco. After the war Hermione had volunteered with a group that was overseeing the deradicalisation of younger Death Eaters who had been identified as candidates for rehabilitation. Draco had been assigned Hermione as a “recovery mentor” after the war and they’d managed to move from intense loathing, to grudging mutual respect, to tentative friendship over a six year period. Unsurprisingly, Draco had some trust issues. Harry was still trying to move on from passionate loathing, but then again, Hermione thought, he hadn’t spent as much time with Draco as she had. They’d spent a lot of time shouting at each other, insulting each other with a few hexes along the way and a lot of crying from both Hermione and Draco. Hermione respected anyone that made a genuine attempt at reconciliation, and Draco was trying. _Very_ _trying_ , as Harry would spitefully say. In any case, it only took the owl an hour to return. Hermione took the scroll and laughed when she read Draco’s response.

“What?” Harry asked.

“He says we should try Confounding an Auror guard named Dawlish. Apparently he is a bit susceptible to it now after the war. His next shift starts Friday.”

“I don’t even want to know how he knows all that.” Said Harry half-admiringly.

“He’s got fingers in pies that haven’t even been baked yet.” Said Hermione affectionately, already forming a plan.

————————

Hermione had a plan. A crappy one, but they didn’t have much time to figure it out before Dawlish’s shift. She’d made a completely illegal portkey from a muggle clothes peg. The plan was, Dawlish would be Confounded by Ron at the end of his shift and the start of Dawlish’s. Under the a Suggestability Charm, he’d hopefully put on a pair of gloves and Ron would slip the peg into his pocket. Following this, Dawlish would apparate to Azkaban, then once inside the wards and building, be drawn to go to Snape’s cell and clip the peg onto him. Harry, Ron and Hermione would wait in the spare bedroom for Snape to appear. Then....well that was as far as a Hermione had thought, and it would be a miracle if the plan even got that far successfully. The Suggestability Charm wasn’t strong, but they couldn’t use Imperius for this, not even to save Snape. They’d be caught for sure.

“It’ll be easier to try this again once we’re inside Azkaban ourselves.” Said Harry nervously. “What with the Confounding, illegal portkeys and breaking prisoners out. I hope we are in adjoining cells so I can shout at you about talking me into this.”

“Worst case scenario.” Said Hermione. “It’ll be fine.” She did not believe a single word she had just said.

They heard a crack as Ron apparated into the room.

“Well. It’s done.” Said Ron. “I guess now we wait.” The waiting patiently part took all of about ten minutes, until Harry and Ron got bored and started playing Exploding Snap. Hermione was reading the updated version of “Hogwarts: A History”. There was a really interesting section on Tom Riddle’s relationship with the school pre-Voldemort that she was only halfway through. She’d just decided to readjust her position on the armchair she’d transfigured when the bed appeared with a sucking pop.

“Shit!” Shouted Ron and fell backward. “Why the fuck did the bed come too?”

“Shut up Ron.” Said Harry, bending over the figure on the bed. He looked at Hermione and nodded slowly. Hermione came over and they both looked at the prostrate man.

It was, without a doubt, Severus Snape.


	2. Fixing Snape

“Oh. He looks bad.” Said Ron, standing up and coming over to view their newest resident. “Nope, actually, he looks dead.”

“He’s stunned.” Said Hermione. “ _Finite_ _Incantatem_ ,” Snape gasped slightly. Hermione sliced off the bindings and blindfolds with her wand. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, probably adjusting to the light.

Hermione cast a diagnosis spell and the area around his torso and head lit up in a violent red.

“He’s burning up.” Said Hermione. “Looks like um, chest infection, sinus infection, ear infection...” she trailed off as Snape appeared to focus on her.

“‘lo.” He said hoarsely. “You’re pretty.”

“Well he’s obviously delirious.” Said Harry worriedly, Hermione shot him a look.

“Well thanks very much!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. But he’d never say that if he was ok. But, sure, you’re pretty. It’s fine, you’re fine.” He said soothingly. Ron scoffed.

“Oh please, she’s not even the prettiest in this room.” He winked at Hermione, shaking his hair across his brow.

“Shut your ugly face.” Said Hermione absentmindedly as she probed the diagnosis spell. She sighed. “I almost think he’s beyond the potions we’d be able to buy ourselves.”

“St Mungo’s” Suggested Harry.

“No.” Said Ron, “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

“I’ve got one idea, it’s pretty sketchy though.” Said Hermione.

“Always my favourite kind of idea.” Pointed out Harry.

“Wait here, I won’t be long.” Said Hermione, and apparated out. Hermione’s definition of ‘won’t be long’ was vastly different to Ron and Harry’s. An hour after she’d left they began to bicker slightly over whether to try and find her. Snape had apparently fallen asleep, or lapsed into unconsciousness, they weren’t really entirely sure. Harry had put a blanket over him and Ron had tucked a pillow under his head but they’d left him alone besides that.

Hermione spun back into the room, clutching two white boxes. She summoned a glass and filled it with water.

“Prop him up.” Said Hermione. Harry put an arm around Snape in what would, in any other circumstances, be considered an affectionate embrace. He hefted him up in a sitting position. Ron summoned some more pillows to wedge behind him.

“Professor. Professor!” Hermione leant close to Snape’s face, his eyes drowsily open part-way. “You need to take these.” She held out two pills, Snape appeared to understand. He lifted a hand, grabbed the pills and popped them into his mouth. Hermione held the glass to his lips and he drank.

“Er, what were they?” Ron asked.

“Antibiotics and paracetamol with codeine.” Explained Hermione. “Muggle medicine is actually quite sophisticated. His temperature should start to drop immediately. After a day or so he will start to feel a lot better.” Hermione charmed a door in the wall so it opened directly into the small upstairs bathroom.

“Oi! Do you mind?” Exclaimed Harry.

“It’ll make it easier for him while he’s a bit unsteady.” She turned back to Snape.

“Do you know where you are Professor?” Hermione bent back over him.

“Order....headquarters.” Snape mumbled, eyes closed. The trio shared a look.

“Ok well that’s positive right?” Said Ron. Harry shrugged.

“I guess so, except the Order was disbanded after the war ended,”

“Maybe he doesn’t know.” Said Hermione thoughtfully.

“About the Order?” Ron asked.

“About the war.” Hermione said. This time Ron shrugged.  
  
“Poor bastard.”

“We need to get him something to eat and drink.” Said Hermione, “He needs to eat with the medication.”

“Or what happens?” Ron asked in morbid fascination, turning the white box over in his hands.

Both Harry and Hermione ignored Ron’s exclamations of horror as he read the pamphlet outlining the possible side affects and eyed the largely motionless figure on the bed. They decided to give him some privacy, asking Kreacher to bring him something easy to eat and to help him if needed. Hermione popped in several times a day and left his pills on the counter with water but he was always dozing, or at least doing an amazing job of pretending to.

Four days after his arrival Harry and Hermione were having dinner downstairs when Snape walked through the doorway. He looked like a vastly improved, upright corpse.

“Your house elf keeps trying to take my clothes off.” He said and sat down at the table.

“You’re completely right, he should have at least bought you dinner first.” Said Hermione. Snape gave her a side-eye.

“You’re funny now.” He said, dryer than dry.

“She thinks she is.” Said Harry, finishing his bread roll.

“So..... you lost?” Asked Snape idly, tracing runes on the table. Harry and Hermione shared a confused look.

“Er the war?” Asked Harry. “No. I killed mouldy-Voldy years ago.” Snape looked up sharply.

“We thought you were dead.” Said Hermione.

“Because I was bitten several times by a giant possessed venomous snake?” Asked Snape.

“Well yes. And the fact we found your dead body, and buried you.” Snape leaned back and put his hands over his eyes.

“Ah. Well I was hoping the afterlife would have less students. And I wouldn’t feel like shit.”

“How did you get into Azkaban?” Harry asked.

“No idea. How long was I there?”

“About six years.” Said Hermione. Snape sighed, a long drawn out sigh.

“Time...is difficult there. I had an idea I was there for a long time, but I didn’t know how long.”

“Why do you think we lost the war?” Hermione asked.

“Because I was chucked in Azkaban, and visited regularly by Ministry based Death Eaters who tortured me for information.”

Harry and Hermione stared at him, mouths open.

“But.” Harry began, Hermione reached over and covered his mouth.

“Who is the highest ranked Death Eater in the Ministry?” She asked.

“Well, last I knew of who held the most influence, I’d say Lincoln Carding.” He uncovered his eyes and glanced at Harry and Hermione when both swore in unison.

“He’s the Minister!” Exclaimed Hermione.

“Ah. Well it certainly doesn’t _feel_ like you won the war.” Said Snape, rolling his eyes and he looked up at the ceiling again.

“Why do you say ‘you’?” Asked Hermione, “Weren’t we on the same side?” Snape looked at her appraisingly.

“Were we?” Snape murmured. “My staff tried to murder me almost every day I was Headmaster of Hogwarts. Half of my fellow Death Eaters tried to murder me regularly just to get a rung higher in the Dark Lord’s esteem. I’m not really sure whose side I was on.” He tilted his head down and glanced at Harry.

“Anyway. Can you fuck off for a minute Mr Potter? I want to talk to Miss Granger alone.”

“Hey it’s my house!” Protested Harry.

“Can you _please_ fuck off?” Snape asked. Hermione squeezed Harry’s arm, a movement that Snape followed with narrowed eyes. She gave him a quick nod and he sighed, stood up and left the kitchen.


	3. Minerva finds out

“Right.” Snape said. “I’m assuming you’re still the brains in your little gang. So walk me through everything from the Shrieking Shack horror show to me sitting here.” Hermione nodded, but before she could start he tilted his head and held up a finger.

“I can only assume the muggle medicine was your idea.” She nodded, he looked satisfied. “Thank you.” He lowered his fingered and waved at her to continue.

Hermione told him about the final battle, his face whitened considerably when she recounted Harry shouting the background of Snape’s allegiance with Dumbledore at Voldemort and turned completely blank when she listed those who had been killed. She explained how her, Harry and Ron had returned to the Shack after the battle to Snape’s body. Hermione described taking him back to Hogwarts to Pomfrey but added they were told they were too late. She skipped mentioning her extensive pestering of the Ministry until they held a memorial for him. Hermione outlined the trials post-battle, and how she and Harry had provided testimony for Draco and his mother. She neglected to admit her suspicions that Lucius had avoided Azkaban only courtesy of a hefty donation of Malfoy funds to the Ministry. Hermione then briefly mentioned her role with the Commission and how she had come across him in the prison. It was here Snape grimaced.

“Ah. And here we are.” He said. “It took me a while, but I saw that not all the Auror guards were completely estactic about watching me being tortured every other day. And, well, sympathy is a vulnerability that can be exploited.” Snape told Hermione. He had a far-away expression but Hermione thought he sounded like his old Professorial self.

“Bastian.” Breathed Hermione, Snape looked at her.

“Very good Miss Granger....or is it Mrs Potter now....?” Snape trailed off. Hermione gaped at him.

“Er, no. Not at all.”

“Weasley then.”

“You do realise men and women can be platonic friends right?” Hermione sniffed. Snape did smile then, a little sadly.

“Yes well I’m sure Mr Potter showed everyone that I don’t have a great track record in making or keeping friends.” Hermione shook her head.

“Oh, you mean your memories? He never showed anyone else, we keep them locked in my room. I’ll get them for you later if you like.”

“You weren’t tempted to look?”

“Well, Maybe. A little. But they were private. I figured you only gave them to Harry because you were dying.”

“Once I was dead you could have exercised your curiosity.”

“Yes. But,” Hermione turned to examine the wall. “I thought that there wasn’t much left of yours that people weren’t crawling all over. I took them from the Pensieve after the battle and hid them.” Snape sat back in the chair and looked at her steadily.

“When Bastian said they were sending a crony from the Commission I suggested some spattergroit spores impregnated in a scroll sent in the mail would potentially tip the scales. Bastian could be the substitute guard, we weren’t sure who the Commission would send. We were just hoping it wouldn’t be someone aligned with the current powers. Afterwards, Bastian said he thought it was you, but he wasn’t even sure you recognised me, and you’d told him you wouldn’t report the prisoner you saw. I have to admit to feeling a bit despondent, but I drastically underestimated you it appears.”

“Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last.” Said Hermione cheekily.

“Took you only a week to get me out. What did you use?”

“Counfounded Auror, with a Suggestability Charm and illegal portkey.” Hermione admitted. Snape laughed.

“I have a confession.” Hermione said suddenly. “I took your books, well, a lot of them.”

“You took my...What?” Snape raised his eyebrows.

“When you..er....died. The Ministry took ownership of your house. Draco took me there before they arrived. I didn’t have much time so I summoned everything you’d written in, shrunk them and snuck them out.” Snape was just sitting there, staring at her so she felt she had to explain. “I didn’t want _them_ to have your knowledge. But they’re here, I put them in the library. Obviously they are yours so you can take them back.”

“Why...” Snape seemed very confused.

“Why what?”

“Why did you take my books?”

“Because she’s obsessed with books and for some reason was irritatingly insistent about your motives throughout the war and was almost impossibly smug when she turned out to be right.” Said Harry from the doorway. “So she thought she’d save books _and_ save a bit of you at the same time.”

Snape rubbed his hand over his greyed face and barked with laughter. Hermione and Harry stared at him.

“So I managed to fool the Dark Lord, almost all my fellow Death Eaters, the Wizarding community at large, my colleagues at Hogwarts and the Order members...but _not_ you.”

“Well. No.” Said Hermione. “But I am brilliant after all.” She said loftily, tongue firmly in her cheek.

“Fair enough.” Snape crossed his arms and eyed Hermione with interest. Then he snorted another laugh. “Well I’m off to bed to die...again. Please tell the elf I don’t need to be stripped.” Harry and a Hermione watched him gingerly stand up and walk out of the room with as much dignity as a very sick man in grubby prisoner smock could.

“Kreacher!” Harry called. With a pop the old house elf appeared. “Can you please remove Mr Snape’s current clothes and get him some clean ones?” Asked Harry. Kreacher nodded and vanished. After a brief silence they heard a startled yell coupled with some extraordinarily inventive swearing, and they both fell about laughing.

“That’s for giving me shit about my ghosts comment.” Said Harry, a little vindictively.

“That’s the thing you’ve held a grudge over?” Asked Hermione. “Nothing else.” Harry shrugged.

“I figured a lot of the other stuff was justified.” Hermione smiled and covered his hand with hers.

——————————

Over the following days, the trio debated who else to inform about Snape’s current non-dead status. Ron suggested his parents, or one of his brothers given their prior Order status, but both Hermione and Harry disagreed given the family’s connection to the current Ministry. It would be less dangerous to keep them unaware, at least for the moment, of any infiltration of the Ministry. Ron reluctantly agreed, the loss of one brother to the last war had been more than enough.

A week after the Azkaban breakout Snape was in the library at Grimmauld Place...mostly voluntarily...with Hermione. She’d asked him to take her through some of the increasingly cryptic comments in Most Potente Potions and he was doing so in more or less good humour. He’d used an alphabetic cypher for his alterations to the more....darker potions...and it was based on a fairly filthy word. He was extremely reluctant in spelling it out to Hermione, insisting it was inappropriate. Hermione had spent the last seven years (some of it in that godawful tent of Ron’s) living with two boys—now men—and before that had shared a room with Parvati and Lavender. There wasn’t a dirty word or phrase or act she hadn’t heard, had explained to her in explicit details or accidentally walked in on. She was trying to explain this to Snape in a way that didn’t make his eyebrows any higher or his smirk any wider when they both turned towards the unfamiliar footsteps walking towards the door.

“Severus?” Minerva McGonagall asked hesitantly from the doorway. Snape looked up, his face pale and expressionless. Hermione could feel the tension in the room like an icy fog. Minerva’s face darkened and she moved into an offensive stance.

“What did you see your third year of teaching at Hogwarts?” She asked coldly, her wand drawn.

“You and Sinestra playing strip Qudditch at midnight on the Hogwarts ground with half the Kenmare Kestrals team.” Snape said smoothly. There was a moment of silence as Snape and Minerva stared at each other. Hermione decided that discretion was the better part of valour and she’d best sit there and shut up. Then Minerva’s face crumpled.

“Oh Severus.” Minerva half-sobbed, striding across to the dark-haired man and enfolding him a crushing hug. Hermione put the book she was discussing with Snape on the table and slipped around the couple and out the door. She glanced back and saw that Minerva had loosened her grasp on Snape but was talking softly to him and he was nodding with a half-smile.  
  
Hermione found Ron and Harry eating at the kitchen table downstairs. She sat down with them and dolled some of the roast vegetables Kreacher had made onto a plate.

“Everything ok upstairs?” Ron asked.

“Yeah. They’re just catching up. I think they were close.” Shrugged Hermione. Ron shook his head.

“Nope. Can’t imagine it. Can’t imagine anyone being close to Snape.” He said. Harry gave him a pointed look.

“Oh shit. Yeah, sorry, er....your mum....er...” Ron was struggling.

“Oh I don’t know.” Said Hermione not looking up while cutting a piece of potato, “I like talking to him. He’s interesting and pretty funny actually,” Ron and Harry shared a mutual look of blank astonishment over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always had a head canon of Severus and Minerva as friends. I don’t know why, they both seemed to have a really dry humour and I imagined they would share a few raised eyebrows across the common room. Then of course she was extra upset about Dumbledore because she thought she’d known him.


	4. Getting to know each other

An hour after her arrival, Minerva came back downstairs. She was tight lipped about her reunion with Snape, but sat down and had a cup of tea. Hermione noticed her eyes were moist.

“We need to deal with the Ministry.” Said Harry. Minerva nodded.

“Yes Mr Potter, but we have to be very careful. We have no idea how far they have infiltrated. I’ll start with some discrete enquires”

“What can we do?” Asked Hermione. Minerva shook her head.

“Nothing...yet. I’ll come back when I know more.”

“What about Snape?” Asked Ron.

“It’s best he stay here for now. It’s obvious the Ministry is keeping his escape very tightly held, we don’t want to tip their hand.”

“Sure.” Said Harry. “As long as he needs, or wants I guess.” Minerva nodded tightly. She stood to leave and then looked over at them.

“I’m very grateful you found him, and helped him. We were friends and Hogwarts and...well, we parted badly is the only way I can put it. I deeply regretted the way we...” Minerva stopped here.

“I wouldn’t dwell on it.” Said Snape as he entered the kitchen. “It was supposed to be that way.”

“Yeah.” Said Harry. “You fooled everyone.”

“ _Almost_ everyone.” Shrugged Snape, glancing at Hermione, who barely managed to repress a smug smile.

After Minerva had left Snape sat down heavily at the table, he looked worn and exhausted. The meeting with Minerva had drained him emotionally and he was still recovering his physical strength. Hermione poured him a tea and silently pushed it across the table to him. Snape nodded and sipped it.

“So...er...feeling better Snape?” Asked Harry. They’d all come to an uneasy truce regarding names. Snape had outright refused to be called Mister, Master, Professor or, Merlin forbid, Headmaster. Although, that was McGonagall now at any rate. So they called him Snape, and he had dropped the former school formality of his address to them and called them simply Weasley, Potter or Granger.

“Better is a relative term.” Said Snape.

“Well, when you first arrived you were so delirious you told Hermione she was pretty.” Said Ron, somewhat mockingly and showing a dangerously low level of desire to live a long and healthy life. Any expression fell from Snape’s face and he stirred his tea slowly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Leave it alone Ron.” She said.

“I’m just saying, he must have been completely out of it!” Hermione’s nostrils flared just a little bit, signifying her rapidly rising temper. Snape leaned back in his chair and tapped his upper lip with the spoon. He eyed Ron with a calculating look.

“You think only a sick person would consider her attractive?” Snape asked, feigning innocence, and for all appearances completely consumed with examining the spoon. Ron gaped.

“Er...well....not at all. What I meant was...” Ron stammered.

“Ah....I see..... You were suggesting instead, that perceiving Granger as attractive would be a sign of extreme illness in someone.” Snape said in a voice which for all intents and purposes indicated he was extremely bored by the whole exchange. He had been continuing his study of the spoon however looked up at Ron suddenly once he finished speaking.

“Well..no..that’s not right either.”

“He’s winding you up Ron.” Intervened Hermione, seeing how flustered Ron was getting. “But you are still a prat for bringing it up.”

“Sorry Hermione.”

Harry smiled into his dinner, Ron shrugged ruefully and Hermione gave him a warm look. Snape’s face remained completely impassive.

The following week passed by reasonably uneventfully. Ron, Harry and Hermione went to work and kept their heads down. In the evenings Hermione cornered Snape regarding the seemingly endless comments in his books. One night as they were going through a very old and slightly foul smelling text on Defence Against The Dark Arts, Hermione asked him about Minerva.

“Was she really playing strip Quidditch?” Hermione asked, leaning across Snape’s arm to see what he was transcribing.

“Oh yes, Minerva was quite wild. It was a bit of a shock to me at the time, I was only about twenty three or so and women were a bit of a mystery to me still.” Snape said. Hermione, who wasn’t that much older than the age he had just dismissed as seemingly unsophisticated, was suddenly reminded of how young she must seem to him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t remove the memory.” Hermione joked. Snape scoffed.

“Something like that is useful for leverage.” He said, checking the next page in the book for another comment.

“Like Bastian’s sympathy.” Said Hermione. Snape hummed in agreement.

“Is that how you see people?” Asked Hermione. “Just vulnerabilities? Memories for leverage?”

“Do you think that is terrible?” Snape asked, looking up at her with interest.

“No.” Admitted Hermione. “But it sounds sad and lonely.” Snape looked at her thoughtfully, running a finger across his lips.

“Perhaps it was....or is.......I don’t really think about it. But it was necessary, and I was the only one who said I’d do it.”

“Do you regret it?” Hermione asked.

“Regret what in particular?” Said Snape with a half sneer. “There’s a long list.”

“You basically gave up your whole adult life so far to the war.....” Said Hermione, stopping herself before she said _For Lily._ “Everything was for the war effort, was anything for you?” There was a long pause where a Snape pondered her question.

“Being a bastard to students. That was one hundred per cent for myself.” Snape said smirking. Hermione laughed, remembering his imposing form in the classroom.

“Well you’ll be pleased to know it worked well.” She said. “Did you wind Ron up the other day for the same reason?”

“No.” Said Snape. “He was trying to score a point on me, but by denigrating you. As far as I can tell, you’re probably the one living person in the whole Wizarding world who consistently gave two shits about me while I was alive, when I was dead and when you found out I was in Azkaban. So I’ll be fucked letting you get dirty from the mud people want to chuck at me.” Hermione blinked in surprise, it was an unexpectedly passionate comment in support of her.

“Oh. I’m sure I wasn’t the only...”

“Minerva said you forced the Ministry to give me a memorial.”

“Ahhh. Yes. Although in hindsight they knew you weren’t dead.”

“Just some poor polyjuiced random Death Eater buried under my name. I’m told Kingsley gave a particularly _stirring_ eulogy that brought everyone to tears. How...... _nice_.” He gave the full sneer on this occasion.

“I thought you hated me.” Admitted Hermione, furrowing her brow and redirecting the conversation.

“At school?” Asked Snape and he scratched his head in thought. After a few weeks scouring by Kreacher his hair was very clean and lay against his jawline and past the nape of his neck like black ink.

“Yes, I guess.”

Snape shrugged.

“Does it matter?” Hermione was surprised to find it did.

“Yes it does. I guess I really respected you, but I never managed to impress you, no matter how hard I tried.”

“Was that the _trying_ when you set me on fire, or when you stole from me?”

“Er..” Hermione thought he hadn’t known about that. Snape saved her from further mortification by turning his attention back to his book.

“Granger, don’t worry about it. I was walking a very difficult tightrope between two powerful wizards, trying to keep from falling. It didn’t make me a pleasant person to be around. You, Potter, Weasley....,you were just kids, expected to undertake guerilla warfare while still trying to grow up. None of you made my job easier, but then, you weren’t supposed to. I committed to each decision _voluntarily_ before you were even born and the rest was mine to do alone. The fact you three aren’t complete gibbering messes after what you’ve seen and done as children....” He trailed off, staring vacantly ahead.

“Was it bad at Azkaban?” Asked Hermione.

“Yes.” Said Snape, still looking ahead. “It was very bad.” Hermione, suddenly perceiving him as she did Ron and Harry, placed a comforting hand on his. Snape glanced down at her hand on his and looked at her quizzically. “Guess it was lucky I’d had so much practice being tortured then.” He added wryly, moving his hand out from underneath hers and picking up the book again.

“Yes. Lucky.” 


	5. Hermione’s crush

Minerva returned a few days afterward, and she and Snape holed up in the library for an hour or so. Whatever they were discussing was causing eruptions of laughter from Minerva on relatively frequent occasions. Later, Minerva had told Harry, Hermione and Ron about the status of her enquiries. Carding had been a steady riser in the Ministry for many years, but had never been linked to any type of extremist rhetoric. He had surrounded himself with various individuals that Snape had confirmed all had been linked to the Death Eater cohort at one time or another. When Harry had protested why the cult even remained after the death of their charismatic, powerful leader, Snape had shook his head. He had explained to that it was the commitment to the beliefs of blood supremacy and the yearning for power which drew people in initially, Voldemort had been the catalyst for all out attacks on disbelievers. When Ron had looked dubious, Snape had asked whether they had stopped believing in their cause once Dumbledore had died. This had led to a very uncomfortable silence. Minerva had then proclaimed it was time to bring in the remaining former Order members to plan a way forward.

“We can meet here.” Minerva said to Snape, who nodded.

“Why does Snape have to be involved?” Asked Hermione.

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating Miss Granger.” Said Minerva sternly. Hermione blushed.

“Oh erm no. What I meant was, hasn’t he done enough? He bloody died once already, and has spent the last six years locked up being tortured!”

“As much as I appreciate the sentiments Granger, I _am_ an adult, and capable of making my own decisions.” Snape said dryly, cocking his head to the side and studying her like she was a particularly confusing Arithmantic equation.

They agreed to host the meeting in two weeks, which meant breaking the news of Snape’s survival, which he agreed to with an ambivalent shrug.

That night was the first night Hermione dreamt of Snape. She woke suddenly from the dream, briefly floundering in the confusing blurred stage of dreaming and reality mixing.

“Shit.” She said. Why was she dreaming of Snape? Hermione wondered to herself, particularly in the way the dream had gone, which seemed to have quickly escalated into acts she would never normally have associated with the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place. Maybe it was an older man thing? She decided to test that idea. She forced her mind to think about Arthur Weasley, to which her libido glanced at her askance as if it had no idea what she expected it to do with that image. Ah, a ‘bad boy’ thing instead...that was a normal phase right? She thought about Draco, and her libido perked up slightly, but showed little interest beyond that. Maybe an older bad boy? Hermione decided. She pictured Lucius Malfoy and her libido went back inside, shut the door, drew all the deadbolts it could and cast a few protective wards just to sure. Hermione sighed to herself. She tentatively thought of Snape.....something completely non-sexual. She pictured him as he was a few days ago when she’d asked him to read through her draft anti-discrimination legislation submission. He’d sat down with her and read it thoroughly, asked her to take him through her reasoning, then penned some very useful suggestions. She had watched him, with complete focus on her work, concentration line between his eyes and flipping the quill idly with his long fingers. Her libido immediately opened the door, vanished all items of clothing, materialised a bed and lay down on it in preparation.

“Bugger.” Hermione thought to herself. She had a crush on Snape. She pulled her pillow over her head and groaned. Why did she do these things to herself?

The next few days were most uncomfortable for Hermione. She was trying not to overthink, but couldn’t help analysing every tiny contact she had with Snape. Was she being friendly? Too friendly? Not friendly enough? She couldn’t remember whether she smiled at him before so was she now smiling like an idiot? Then she’d notice she was too silent, and that Harry and Ron would be staring at her in bemusement and then she’d suddenly rattle off something pointless. Ugh, it was just The Worst.

She was trudging up to bed, congratulating herself on being a very good approximation of Normal Hermione when Snape caught her arm.

“Granger, we need to talk.” He nodded towards the library. Hermione’s heart sank.

Snape sat down, elbows on knees and stared at her.

“Right.” He said. “Spit it out.”

“Spit what out?” Hermione was playing for time. He sighed.

“You’ve obviously got an issue with me. You’ve been acting odd the last few days. I didn’t last this long without recognising when people change their manner of personal interaction. So let’s have it out.” Hermione stared at him, this was going to be the most humiliating experience of her life.

“Um. Ok, right. So this is it.” Hermione tried to draw on her non-existent Gryffindor courage. “I like you.” Snape looked perplexed.

“I figured you did, what with all the saving me from a long, drawn out death in Azkaban and the fact you can talk to me without immediately being sick.” Snape said dryly. Hermione swallowed, oh this was going to be very bad.

“Um no. I mean....I think I _like_ you.” She said meaningfully. Snape’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“Oh.” He said, closing his mouth abruptly and frowning. Hermione suddenly wondered if it would be rude to apparate away mid-conversation, somewhere far away like Antarctica or something,

“Well I didn’t expect _that_ explanation.” Snape said slowly, looking at her pensively.

“Well there it is.” Said Hermione. “So....what do you think?” She asked, finding another store of bravado.

“I think you probably need an immediate check-up at St Mungo’s.” Snape said, still staring at her with apparent bemusement. Hermione grinned.

“Well yes, but nothing to do with this. I’m sorry, is it very unwelcome?” She asked, her grin fading at his expression. Snape sighed and ran both his hands through his hair, which Hermione was completely irritated to discover she found endearing,

“Unwelcome. No. Not exactly. But Granger, this is....this is not what you want.”

“Oh actually I’m a complete expert in what _I_ want.” Argued Hermione.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Bad phrasing on my part. I think I meant, I don’t think this is what you _should_ want.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked. “We get along fine, we like talking to each other, I find you attractive.”

“ _What_? Why?” Snape asked incredulously, then regathered himself. “Because.” He began, then faltered, a bit panicky. He sighed a long, heavy sigh. “You deserve better.”

“I deserve to be happy. So do you. Maybe we could even make each other happy.” Hermione said. Snape smiled a very small, sad smile.

“Granger. It’s not rational. Firstly, there isn’t one person you know that wouldn’t happily disembowel me without hesitation if they even had a hint we were having this conversation. Secondly, compared to you, I’m old. Old and _very_ broken. Of the variety, ‘have constant nightmares about the innocent people I murdered’ type broken. And you are very young.”

“I can’t argue with the young point.” Said Hermione, preparing to argue, “But I was in the war too, remember. I’m not in mint condition myself”

Snape put his head in his hands and groaned.

“We could do a test run. Like a trial. Maybe on the couch here.” Suggested Hermione brightly. Snape looked up and shook his head ruefully. “I had a dream about the kitchen table, maybe after the boys go to bed.....” Hermione offered and Snape’s eyebrow lifted skyward.

“Well if I had any doubt about whether everything downstairs was in good working order that has been completely put to rest.” Said Snape, looking a little frazzled.

“Don’t you find me attractive?” Hermione asked, feeling very unsure all of a sudden.

“You do realise men and women can be platonic friends right?” Snape said ironically. Hermione blushed.

“Oh....yes....right.” She said, then realised he was mocking her very gently.

“Granger, being propositioned by an intelligent, feisty woman is without a doubt the highlight of my life. But I think there is a power imbalance. I was your teacher, someone who is supposed to look after your interests, not take advantage of you. The first things people would think would be, When did this start? Did he try anything at school? Did he put her under Imperius? How quickly can I use the killing curse on him? Where should we put the headless remains?” He said self-mockingly.

“Maybe I took advantage of you in your weakened state.” Hermione proposed. Snape rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just continue as we have been. Trust me, positive feelings towards me tend to fade quickly with increased familiarity. Any, er, _warm_ thoughts of me will rapidly cool, as past experience has strongly indicated.”

“I’d like to keep spending time like we were. Have I made it weird now?” Hermione asked. Snape shook his head.

“I am quite experienced in dealing with unrequited feelings.” Snape sighed, looking away.

“But they aren’t unrequited! They are very requited, we can requite them right now on the couch.” Hermione pointed out.

“Granger.” Snape warned in a dark voice.

“Ok, sorry.”


	6. The Order meets

They continued as they had been. Snape seemingly completely unaffected by their conversation to the point that Hermione sometimes wondered if it had happened at all. She knew it hadn’t been a dream, as her Snape dreams rarely involved much talking. They still spent evenings in the library and she still laughed inwardly across the table in the mornings when Snape watched in disgust as Harry and Ron inhaled food at alarming rates. Hermione pondered her attraction to Snape as she studied him while he read one afternoon after she came home from work. He wasn’t, well....conventionally handsome....or even particularly charming. He was tall and lean, but any skin she did see on occasion seemed crisscrossed with silvery scars. He was intelligent, maybe more than herself—Hermione thought grudgingly—and had a quick, biting wit which she found deeply amusing. Hermione sighed to herself. Several wizards at work had asked her out. They were her age, handsome and at least one appeared to be rocking a six-pack. At least, as far as one could tell under robes....but he did wear tight.....robes. Hermione had politely declined, citing a busy schedule. She thought it wasn’t fair to say yes to them when she knew she really wasn’t that interested at the moment. Snape didn’t know as much as he thought, Hermione mused somewhat savagely to herself, her attraction was showing no sign of abating as yet.

The day before the Order meeting, Minerva arrived bearing two gifts for Snape. One was new sets of tailored robes, the other was a frail looking Ollivander. He’d agreed to make a new wand on the quiet for Snape, so spent half the morning measuring various parts of Snape and muttering to himself. Ron was fascinated, as was Hermione, and they would have both loved to stay and watch but they had to work.

Hermione had a long, difficult day and apparated home with a large headache. As she entered Grimmauld Place she groaned aloud as she heard a group talking—she’d forgotten the reinvigorated-Order meeting. She entered the kitchen, the standard meeting place, and inwardly gritted her teeth as she ignored her head pain and greeted the others. She was catching up with Kingsley when he paused, his attention caught by something behind her. Hermione turned to see Minerva and Snape enter. Hermione felt a strange pang of loss; gone was the man in the too-short borrowed navy Weasley jumper and jeans that he refused to let them transfigure to fit, and who had just last night laughed with her at a mistranslation in a French Potions journal which suggested readers add a prized male body part. Back was the scowling, imposing figure in black, buttoned up to an inch of his life. Molly Weasley immediately shrieked something incomprehensible and rushed across the room to pull him into a hug to the utter bemusement of Ginny behind her. Snape saw Hermione over Molly’s shoulder and as their gazes met he rolled his eyes. Hermione hid a smile, ahhh _there_ he was.

“I think I preferred it when everyone hated me.” Snape muttered as exfiltrated himself from Molly’s grip and slouched at the table, arms crossed. Minerva gave attendees a summary of Snape’s time in Azkaban and the current situation with the Ministry. Kingsley was bereft, he’d been the Minister immediately before Carding and had even helped groom him in preparation for the role. To hide his perception of responsibility, and momentarily repress feelings of self-recrimination, he distracted himself by sniping at Snape.

“So what did they get out of you over the last six years?” He demanded. Snape pursed his lips, thinking.

“Well, nothing for the first year, but they got serious after that.” Snape held up a hand and starting ticking things off on his fingers. “The complete lyrics to ‘No surrender’, my mam’s best pudding recipe, all the names my students called me behind my back, each step in brewing Wolfsbane-“

“That’s not necessary Severus. Behave yourself Kingsley or leave.” Minerva said fiercely. Kingsley grimaced but remained silent.

The meeting continued but for once Hermione began to tune out. She felt a little down actually. After the rush of rescuing Snape, she felt the current situation unrolling before her in a manner that was depressingly familiar. Was the Wizarding world so deeply divided that the blood supremacy issue would constantly rear up time and again? How many times would a group like the Order sit down to strategise against a familiar enemy? She glanced around her, to the tense faces of the Weasleys; Molly and Arthur completely focused on Minerva, but George gave her a wink and Bill sent a tense smile. More than half the group had seen two wars already and suffered considerably. Neville had lost his parents and was instrumental in the final battle but sat as quiet at the table here as he had in school. Hermione was twenty-four but felt much older. She sighed and let her gaze fall on Snape. He looked....tired, Hermione thought. His face was almost expressionless but she, the boys and Snape had been living in each other’s pockets for over a month now, she could tell better now when he was hiding something.

By the end of the meeting there was a scattering of tasks for people to take away. Kingsley was to do some digging on Carding, Luna was going to use her vast network of Quibbler sources to scrounge up what dirt she could on the Ministry’s current staff and Snape was tasked with producing a historical list of as many Death Eaters with Ministerial connections as he could remember. The meeting disbanded, and Grimmauld Place was left empty of all but it’s regular inhabitants sans two. Harry and Ron had decided to go to the local pub with George, Bill, Fleur, Luna, Ginny and Neville. It was rare for Ginny to be in town, she was playing for both the Harpies and the national team so Harry had obviously decided to strike while the iron was hot. Hermione had declined, she just wanted to take a pain potion and curl up with a book. She found Snape sitting in the darkened library with a Firewhiskey.

“The boys have gone to the pub and I’m off to bed, do you need anything?” Hermione asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“I said I was fine didn’t I?” Snape said dismissively.

“Yes. But you seem very _not_ fine, more like a long way from fine. Fine is not generally accompanied by sitting alone in the dark drinking.”

“Maybe we have different definitions of ‘fine’. Drinking alone in the dark happens to be generally a fairly okay experience for me.” Snape said, draining his glass.

“Well it all looks pretty wonderful from here.” Said Hermione sarcastically.

“Then as we both agree on how fine I am, I’m sure I can be left safely to my own devices.” Snape said, pouring another drink. Hermione entered and sat in the chair beside him.

“All right then, pour me one too.” She said. Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he poured her a dram.

“So not actually saying what is wrong when someone asks, is that a man thing or a Slytherin thing?” Hermione asked, sipping her whiskey.

“I don’t know.” Said Snape morosely, “I suppose I’m not much of a man or a Slytherin anymore so it can’t be either.”

“Snape.” Hermione said with concern. “Please tell me.” He looked away. “You know I can’t stand not knowing things so I’ll just keep asking until you tell me.” He glanced back at her and smiled grimly.

“Ah, now _there_ is a fairly dark threat Granger. Questions from you? I quake in fear.” He ducked his head in a faux bow.

“Was it the meeting?” Hermione asked.

“Not really, as far as a Order meetings went it was fairly painless. I was just thinking about putting the list together, hence was reminiscing...should old acquaintance be forgot and all that.”

“We have a pensieve if that would help.” Offered Hermione.

“It’s not remembering their names that’s the problem.” Said Snape.

“Ah.” Said Hermione in understanding. She said nothing more, and she sat beside him in silence as she sipped her drink.

“Is this how you imagined your post-war life?” Snape asked suddenly. Hermione shrugged.

“I guess I didn’t do much thinking ahead back then, there was always something happening that kept me, ‘in the moment’ so to speak. What about you?”

“Oh I definitely thought I’d be dead.” Snape said in a matter-of-fact manner.

“I suppose I thought it would be over, all over once Voldy fell. The Death Eaters, the issue with muggle-born, all that sort of stuff” Sighed Hermione.

“Well there are always vulnerable people that will be drawn to a group that offers a promise of power, protection and belonging.” Said Snape reflectively, flexing his left arm unconsciously.

“Yes.” Hermione agreed, she finished her drink and stood. “Well I’m off to bed for real this time, hope you get some sleep.”

“How’s the other..er...issue going?” Asked Snape hesitantly as Hermione turned to go, she glanced back and would have sworn blind Snape was blushing in the dim light of the sconce.

“Let’s just say my couch offer still stands, or the kitchen table, or bed.....I’m not fussy really.” Said Hermione, more joking than not and Snape snorted a laugh, at least she’d cheered him up somewhat.

“You are an unusual woman Granger. And I mean that as the highest compliment.”


	7. A concert with Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter onward I have tried to add a Severus POV.
> 
> Hermione’s POV = She calls herself Hermione and calls Severus, well...Snape. So if you see Hermione/Snape, that’s her.
> 
> Severus POV = Severus/Granger.
> 
> Hope you think it works...

“Well, it’s from mum.” Ron said cheerfully, handing the package over to Snape.

“I see....what is it?” Asked Snape suspiciously, turning the package over gingerly in his hands.

“Knowing mum, probably food, she did say you were too thin.” Shrugged Ron, picking up a leg of chicken.

Snape unwrapped the package and unfolded a coal black piece of clothing.

“Er...” Snape said.

“That’s pretty cool actually,” Said Harry, admiring the knitted jumper with an emerald green ‘S’ in the centre. “My last one was puce.”

“Ok boys, I’m off, see you in a few hours.” Hermione called out as she came down the stairs. She was going out with Draco to a concert. After she was assigned as Draco’s mentor she had tried to expose him to as many different muggle experiences as possible. They discovered he loved movies, loathed mosh pits (he just wanted to hex everyone) and had a soft spot for classical music. He never mentioned to his father their excursions (mostly to prevent any subsequent anti-muggle rant) but his mother had attended a ballet with them once and had given every impression of enjoying it. Hermione didn’t bother telling the boys details of her jaunts with Draco as it avoided being forced to provide an exhausting explanation to Ron about each event. Hermione had found a wonderful local string quartet that they’d agreed to see whenever they played.

“You look nice Hermione,” Said Harry, “Tell Draco he’s a prat from me.” He finished, just as he did each time she was leaving to meet Draco.

“I will.” She said, fixing an earring. She’d transfigured an understated evening gown for the black-tie dress code. Draco made such an effort with muggle attire these days it would have been insulting not to match his enthusiasm.

“I won’t wait up.” Ron said with an eyebrow wiggle. Hermione laughed, Ron was such a slave to his hormones he naturally assumed the same of everyone else. She wouldn’t deny that Draco had grown into a handsome man, but she observed that fact almost objectively, he didn’t make her toes curl.

“Don’t be purile Weasley.” Said the man who currently was responsible for quite a bit of toe curling and who appeared to be wearing a new, custom-made-by-Molly-Weasley jumper. “You scrub up adequately Granger.”

“Don’t gush Snape.” Hermione said with a wink and apparated away to meet Draco.

——————————

“Acceptable Hermione. Acceptable.” Draco observed as she arrived at the theatre. He was looking extraordinarily dashing in black-tie.

“Thank you. I’d return the favour by saying you looked handsome but you’re already so revoltingly full of yourself I’ll refrain.”

“You wound me darling.” Said Draco, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Draco was catching the eye of a fair number of the well dressed attendees, of both sexes, but he ignored them and focused his considerable charm on Hermione.

“I adore Mendelssohn.” Hermione sighed. “Tonight’s concert finale is the String Quartet in D Major, lovely and upbeat.”

“Feeling a bit grey are we?” Draco asked as he escorted her to their seats.

“A bit of lightness would be well received.” Hermione confirmed.

The concert was wonderful, and Hermione enjoyed seeing Draco’s pale eyes soften in pleasure as he applauded the performers. If only more pure-blood wizards could find this type of joy in the muggle world Hermione thought, those claims portraying muggles as ‘filth that should be exterminated’ wouldn’t be such an easy sell.

They lingered afterwards for a digestif, champagne for Draco and a golden, well-oaked, chardonnay for Hermione.

“How’d your fictitious Azkaban adventure pan out?” Asked Draco, draping himself across the bar much to the delight of the bartender.

“Fictitiously well.” Answered Hermione cagily.

“I don’t know why everyone was so worried about me.” Admired Draco, “You’ve always been the bloody troublemaker.” That was one of the things Hermione liked about Draco, he didn’t try to get anything out of you outright. He preferred to wait until you blurted it out yourself.

“Speaking of trouble,” Segued Hermione, “Have you ever heard of anything off about Minister Carding?” Draco’s face immediately shuttered, the blankness reminding her of Snape, Hermione thought with a slight pang.

“Why so interested in the Minister?” Asked Draco with an edge to his voice.

“Well. I’m a bit suss on him.” Hermione said truthfully. Draco eyed her steadily.

“Let’s have some air.” He suggested. They walked outside and Draco draped his jacket over Hermione’s shoulders, creating an opportunity to whisper in her ear.

“He’s dangerous Hermione. Be careful.” Hermione looked up at Draco, who looked uncharacteristically ruffled.

“Draco, is he....was he...?” Draco gave a quick nod.

“Hermione, he is bad news. He’s been blackmailing father since the end of the war.”

“What? Have you reported him?”

“Who to? He’s the Minister. And no one will care about anyone getting money out of father, we weren’t ‘war heroes’ if you recall.”

Hermione couldn’t argue with that.

“If don’t pay him what he asks, he threatened to send both my parents to Azkaban. I’m not worried about father, I’m pretty confident he could survive an Avada Kedavra to the face, or, more likely, in his back. But it would kill my mother. That’s why I had an Azkaban escape plan handy.” Draco explained. “In case I needed it.”

“And I would have helped you Draco, if you would have asked I’d have done it. Probably less happily on behalf of your father. But I would have helped you.” She added, and Draco stared at her intensely before he grasped her hand.

“I know you would have. You’ve been there for me whenever I’ve needed. You’re a good friend.” Admitted Draco.

“Shut up ferret.” Said Hermione warmly, and gave him a hug.

“Come on, this is getting too morbid and _way_ too touchy-feely for my liking.” Said Draco, “Let’s have one more drink before we head off.”

“Definitely.” Agreed Hermione. “And thanks for the heads up on Carding.” Draco put an arm around her shoulders.

“Well Hermione, the best thing about being a reformed bastard, is the enhanced ability to recognise another bastard when I see one.” And he led her back inside.

—————————

Severus lay on his borrowed bed, in his borrowed room, in a pair of borrowed pyjamas. He couldn’t sleep. This was a fairly standard experience for him, and as sleep almost always was a fast train to nightmareville he wasn’t even truly bothered by insomnia. He had almost completed the list Minerva had asked for, and with each name came a horrific, mostly blood filled, flashback. It had been emotionally exhausting trolling through his memories to make sure he’d named each and every individual. He sighed heavily to himself remembering Granger’s helpful suggestion of a pensieve, as if reliving the memories in his own head wasn’t bad enough. He could watch them unfold as a live-action replay if he really wanted to send himself back to a time where writing himself off with Firewhiskey was his number one favourite thing to do in his spare moments.

His mind probed his thoughts on Granger like worrying a sore tooth—uncomfortable but something about the activity was soothing. He sighed to himself as he remembered her expression as she propositioned him in the library. For one brief moment he had thought it was an incredibly cruel prank, but her face had been completely open to him and then he’d realised she was serious. Why she had those feelings Severus struggled to comprehend. But it was that open face that had prompted his response. She’d been such a pleasant companion over the past few weeks, interesting, funny and...yes...well.....caring. Discovering the extent from Minerva and Potter of how she’d defended him during the war had been bewildering, especially considering what he remembered of his behaviour towards her during school. In any case, Severus couldn’t bring himself to deny himself this burgeoning camaraderie, which would definitely be the outcome of pursuing anything more than friendship. Severus had spent over forty years with himself, long enough to realise he tended to poison most things he valued or enjoyed. He was greedy, and didn’t want that open, smiling expression to be turned off.

There was also the issue of the reaction of others, Severus mused. He wasn’t lying when he’d told Granger that. He imagined the verbal, and likely physical, evisceration Minerva would dish out if she even sniffed a hint of something between him and Granger. Although they were what most people would describe as friends, Severus predicted Minerva’s reaction would be up there with her behaviour when she thought he’d murdered Dumbledore. And the rest of the staff, well, he could bring it up at one of the annoyingly regular catch-ups Minerva had complained to him about. _Remember how you all said I should be nicer to Hermione Granger?_ He could casually drop into the conversation. _Well, you’ll all be pleased to hear I’m shagging her now!_ Then Hagrid would lift up his enormous hands and pop Severus’ head like a grape. He imagined Potter and Weasley would probably also have quite a bit to say about it, but would be unlikely to confront him given he could probably best them with both hands tied behind his back.

Severus didn’t bother to extrapolate to the rest of the Order members, just feeling a vague sense they would all be outraged. The only person who would hold the potential relationship in any positive regard beyond Severus himself would be Granger, and he couldn’t isolate her like that. He just couldn’t. Severus sighed again. It was bloody Sod’s Luck that fate, after dealing out a lifetime of utter shit to him, had delivered—against all odds—a (here Severus was honest with himself) gifted, interesting witch who actually seemed to genuinely like him despite his numerous physical and psychological flaws but he wouldn’t let himself do anything about it. Parts of him, those situated a bit lower on his body, put forward a very cogent argument that if Granger was interested and he was interested then everyone else could go hang. But Severus didn’t get through two Wizarding wars and six torturous years at Azkaban without an extraordinarily high level of self-control. So he told that part of his body to bog off and finally drifted off to sleep.


	8. The second meeting of the Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder regarding POV in this story
> 
> Hermione POV = Hermione/Snape
> 
> Severus POV = Severus/Granger

The next Order meeting was more subdued. Hermione sat between Harry and Snape, and she could feel the heat from Snape’s thigh against hers. She found it a little distracting. She forced herself to pay attention to Kingsley’s report on what he’d found out about Carding’s reach into the Ministry and this was compared with Snape’s completed list. There were a depressing amount of matches. Luna stood to make her report.

“My connections in Gringotts have provided details on Carding personal vault.” She began. Hermione was impressed. Given the level of secrecy in Gringotts, to be able to get that access demonstrated Luna’s skill as an investigative reporter. “He has been bankrolled by a number of individuals, but most significantly and by far the most regular donator is the Malfoy Estate. He has received thousands upon thousands of galleons going back until directly after the end of the war.”

There was an immediate outcry from the group. Hermione stood and held up a hand.

“Wait.” She said. “I was going to update everyone after Luna finished. I knew this already, Draco told me his father is being blackmailed by Carding. He’d threatened Draco’s parents with imprisonment in Azkaban if they refused to comply with his demands.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and Aberforth scoffed.

“What a _convenient_ story by young Malfoy.” He said disbelievingly.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t convenient.” Hermione said calmly. “But it’s the truth.”

“How much can you trust what he says. Really?” Said Neville. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“I’m telling you now that It. Is. The. Truth. I trust Draco. He wouldn’t lie to me about something like this.” She said between clenched teeth.

“You’re being naive.” Said Aberforth. “Snakes never change.” Hermione’s eyebrows shot up, and magic crackled around her.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said. “He’s not what you think.” Neville snorted and looked away. Ginny threw Neville a dark look.

“This reminds me of when we used to argue about Professor Snape.” Said Luna serenely. “And Hermione was insisting he was working for us against Voldemort and everyone kept shouting at her.” The room fell silent. Snape felt eyes on him, but he looked straight ahead. Harry cleared his throat.

“I have complete faith in Hermione. If she vouches for Malfoy, then that’s all I need.” Hermione turned to him and smiled.

“Same with me.” Said Ron, folding his arms across his chest. Hermione’s smile widened.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you Hermione,” Said Arthur, “it’s just, well, our perceptions of the Malfoy family...”

“The Order has traditionally had _such_ an excellent track record of distinguishing the good from the bad.” Severus suddenly spoke up. “Pettigrew, Black..... are examples that immediately come to mind.” Everyone around the table looked suitably abashed.

“And Snape as well.” Hermione added, sitting back down. She felt for Snape’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze and was pleasantly surprised when he squeezed back.

“What we need.” Fleur Delacour began, “Is evidence to bring down Carding and his associates. Would it be possible to sideline a group of trusted Aurors that could pull together what we need to expose him? They could interview the Malfoys to get statements.”

“There is likely to be more blackmail victims.” Said Snape. “If he felt untouchable enough to go after Lucius, I imagine there are many more.” Minerva nodded.

“Yes, I agree. Kingsley, you put together the Auror team, keep it completely separate from the Ministry and the hierarchy. Luna, do you think you’d be able to gather more information on potential blackmail victims?”

“Yes.” Said Luna, “I’ll also get my contact to examine the accounts of everyone on Professor Snape’s list.”

The meeting disbanded soon after that, and Hermione stomped up to her room. She was still annoyed about the comments regarding Draco. _Bloody self-righteous gits._ She was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling wrathfully when there was a knock at the door.

“What?” Hermione snapped.

“I came to see if you are all right, but you sound perfectly fine.” Drawled Snape from behind the door.

“Oh sorry Snape, come in. I’m just a bit shitty.” Snape entered her room, still in his robes and sat on the edge of her bed. Hermione propped herself up.

“I thought your defence of Draco was impressive.” Said Snape sincerely. “He’s obviously made an impression on you.”

“Well. Yes. I’ve been with him for the last six years, he’s made an effort to change a lot of his preconceptions. He deserves a chance.”

“Deserves?” Mused Snape.

“Well, ok. I think of it like this. I’ve done things, like _really_ not so great things. Viewed in isolation someone could think, based on these actions, that maybe I was a bad person.” Hermione explained slowly, Snape was watching her intensely.

“But I’ve also been given the opportunity to do the _right_ thing, when it counted. So, Draco had one moment like that, when he didn’t confirm Harry’s identity to the snatchers, and like when his mum told Voldemort Harry was dead. If Draco had more opportunities and a bit of influence from someone _besides_ his father, who’s to say he wouldn’t chose the right thing more and more?” Hermione finished, Snape raised an eyebrow.

“You’re far too sensible to be in the Wizarding world.” Said Snape. “They prefer to think in black and white, not grey. Particularly the Order.”

“Some of their choices I’ll never understand.” Said Hermione. “Like keeping Harry with his aunt.”

“Ah Yes, Petunia. She was a delight.” Reminisced Snape.

“She was bloody abusive.” Fumed Hermione. “So was his uncle. Then the Order, well they protected them, hid them, when they didn’t even, wouldn’t....” Hermione turned away.

“Wouldn’t what?” Asked a confused Severus.

“They didn’t do anything for my parents, so I tried to protect them by sending them away.” Granger explained.

“I see. Well that was sensible in any case, they definitely were targets for an attack. But you said ‘ _tried_ to protect them’, did something happen?” Severus posed the question carefully. Granger was still facing the wall.

“I altered their memories. I removed everything associated with me, and sent them to Australia. I did it almost seven years ago and haven’t gone there to fix it, I don’t want to try in case I destroy their minds.” She sniffed, Severus saw tears on her cheeks. He was unsettled. The Order would have surmised that her muggle parents were a prime target, why hadn’t they taken action to protect them? He looked helplessly at the young woman on the bed.

“I’ve had...some...experience with putting minds back together.” Severus said uncertainly, remembering his efforts in piecing together victims whose minds had been almost obliterated by an over enthusiastic bout of Cruciatus by someone, mostly Bellatrix. “I could go with you, to help, if you wanted.” He offered, his voice unsure. Granger turned.

“Oh! Yes, yes that would be really great!” She looked ecstatic.

“I can’t promise anything, but we could go once the Carding issue is resolved. Before I leave.” Severus suggested and Granger frowned.

“Leave? What do you mean?”

“Well as marvellous as living secretly in Potter’s spare room is,” Severus said sarcastically, “They’ve taken my house, and the last six years of my life, I was thinking I might go somewhere, start afresh. Maybe even try not being tortured for a while. I’ve heard that’s something a lot of people enjoy.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Granger said sadly. “I understand.” She reached up with a hand and touched his face gently. “I’ll miss you, you know.”

“You will?” Severus croaked, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Yes.” Said Granger, and kissed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few points here on this chapter. I’m trying to put more into the hands of my women characters. For example, Minerva leads the Order, Luna has the amazing contacts, it’s Fleur who voices the need for evidence. 
> 
> Luna was Ravenclaw and very intuitive, it makes sense to me she could develop this type of network. Fleur was the champion for Beauxbatons, so she certainly isn’t a shrinking violet. And Minerva, well... she’s awesome.


	9. The date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV refresher:
> 
> Hermione’s POV = Hermione/Snape
> 
> Severus’ POV = Severus/Granger

During the initial seconds of surprise as Granger’s lips touched his, Severus’s brain was firmly pushed aside as his body decided to take charge. His hands came up and tangled themselves into Granger’s hair and he deepened their kiss, feeling a redirection of blood southward when a soft moan escaped her. She opened her mouth against his and he thought he may as well die right here on her bed, given he was probably experiencing his One And Only Good Day. Then he felt Granger’s hands under his robe, undoing the buttons on his frock coat and his brain snapped back into gear. His hands shot up and stilled hers.

“Sorry. I didn’t...” Severus stammered, Granger immediately stopped and drew back.

“Oh I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, I know you said you didn’t want...but I just....” Hermione said, feeling a bit unsteady. She certainly hadn’t expected kissing Snape would have been quite as good as it was, she’d starting undressing him for crying out loud. Oh bugger, thought Hermione to herself, he probably thinks I am a sex maniac, I mean, who the hell tries to strip someone the first time they kiss them? _Sex maniacs,_ that’s who. No, thought Hermione, stopping that train of thought, that wasn’t right. What she _really_ meant was: A woman who wasn’t afraid of sexual desire, that’s who. She realised Snape had his head in his hands.

“Hey.” Hermione said softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just regaining some self-control.” Said Snape, taking a deep breath and looking up.

“Drink of water?” Hermione offered, Snape laughed ruefully and shook his head.

“Cold water would be very effective, if applied directly to...Well...” He laughed again.

“Probably not a good time to mention that I found it really enjoyable.”

“Oh it was definitely that.” Agreed Snape.

“So we both enjoyed it......and the problem is....?”

“The problem. Yes. The problem.....is. Well.” Snape rubbed a hand across his face. “You said to me before, that you thought we could maybe have a chance of making each other happy. The thing is, I have no doubts about your ability to make anyone happy. You.” He stopped briefly, then looked resolute. “You....are extraordinary.” Snape said. Hermione’s mouth dropped open.

“But _I_ don’t make people happy. In fact I tend to do the opposite. I make them unhappy, and then I make them dead. And that’s how it is.” He stood up abruptly, adjusted his black robes until they hung perfectly and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione stared at the closed door for a minute then lay back on her bed with a smile on her face. Extraordinary, she thought to herself, _extraordinary_.

—————————

Hermione was completely captivated by Snape. She never should have kissed him, she sighed to herself. Now she’d never get over him. In any case, in an attempt to distract herself, she was going out with the wizard with the abs, whatshisname....er Michael. Snape had been consistently... normal in all their interactions since she kissed him. He’d also been so very clear in his wishes _not_ to act on any potential feelings between them it seemed to Hermione that it would almost be a breach of their tentative mutual trust to not respect that. Hence the date with Michael. This would be the first step in moving on, Hermione told mirror Hermione who looked very sceptical indeed. Michael was a young, handsome, gainfully employed wizard and that was what a witch her age would want right? They certainly weren’t supposed to want a darkly-conflicted middle-aged wizard with intimacy issues and almost certainly some type of post-trauma condition. No they weren’t, Hermione told herself firmly. Then she sighed again, then why did she want him so much? Damn her libido. She finished fixing her hair in the mirror, gave herself a stern look and left her room.

“All right boys I’m off, see you later!” Hermione said to the tops of three heads as she poked her head into the library. Ron was losing a chess game spectacularly to Snape and Harry was polishing something quidditch related.

“Tell Malfoy’s he’s a prat and not to be late for our evidentiary interview.” Said Harry, completely focused on the....whatever it was, honestly quidditch had so many things associated with it.

“Oh. I’m not seeing Draco, I’m meeting er...someone else.” Said Hermione, slightly uncomfortably. Three heads shot up and stared at her.

“I _definitely_ won’t wait up then.” Said Ron, smirking.

“Shut up Weasley.” Said Snape, a little viciously. “Have a nice time Granger.”

“Not too nice.” Laughed Ron, earning a cuff to the back of the head from Snape. Hermione rolled her eyes and left.

An hour and a half later and Hermione was the most bored she’d ever been in her entire life. So bored she would have voluntarily had a discussion about quidditch, in fact she would have welcomed such a topic with open arms because at least they would have been discussing _something_. Michael was so very boring, which was particularly an issue as he only wanted to talk about one topic, his incredibly dull self. Dinner had been lovely, the restaurant very cozy, and Michael had been spectacularly uninteresting. Hermione mused it was lucky he was so handsome, at least that provided something to balance out his completely non-existent personality. After dinner Michael had invited her back to his flat for “a nightcap”, an offer Hermione proceeded to decline very politely without looking even faintly repulsed. She had done the hard yards during the dinner, and just wanted to go home and maybe if Snape was up they could discuss— _no_ she told herself firmly, _no no no_.

Hermione stood outside the restaurant for a while after Michael left, deciding whether to apparate straight home and pretend to herself it wasn’t because she wanted to talk to Snape, or whether she should perhaps have a nice dessert somewhere first.

“Hermione? How lucky! Are you stargazing?” Asked Luna, who had came up behind her.

“Oh hi Luna! No, I’m deciding whether to have something delicious or not.”

“I’m on my way to an evening presentation, you could come with me. I think you’d find it really interesting.” Luna offered.

“What’s it about?” Hermione was immediately intrigued, her brain definitely needed some stimulation after the tsunami of boringness from Michael.

“It’s on ethics related to animangi, Rita Skeeter’s abuse of her status is one of the case studies, and Pettigrew of course.”

“Oh yes, Luna that sounds fantastic. Let’s go!” She tucked her arm into Luna’s and they apparated away.

——————————

Severus lay on his bed and cast another non-verbal _Tempus_. It was now midnight and Granger hadn’t returned to the house. Not that he had anything to complain about really, he’d basically told her to forget about him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want her, Severus thought to himself, he did, very badly, but he far preferred her in her current state of ‘living and breathing’. He’d had years of experience in loving a dead person and he wouldn’t recommend it. Granger was very capable, and smart, Severus mused, maybe she wouldn’t end up dead if they, well, _acted_ on their mutual interest. But then again, Lily had been smart and capable too, until of course she hooked up with Potter of all people, thus demonstrating she was also a blithering idiot with revolting taste in men. Severus ground his teeth. Life was a real kick to the balls sometimes, he thought. He briefly pondered what would it had been like if he had died in the Shack, if the Ministry hadn’t apparently popped by as he was drowning in a pool of his own blood and saved him for Azkaban. Potter had told Severus about his conversation with Albus Dumbledore after being struck by Voldemort’s Killing Curse. Severus had been disappointed to hear that the afterlife seemed to involve a train station and being naked with Albus. He thought he’d probably dodged a hex there, having to wait out eternity, completely nude, discussing knitting, or cross-stitch or whatever random muggle pastime Albus had become infatuated with. Would he have seen Lily? He frowned. She would seem so young to him now, barely out of her teenage years. Thanks for saving my son, he imagined she would have said, now sod off old man while I stick my ghost tongue down the throat of my idiotic ghost husband.

There was probably a special station for Death Eaters, Severus thought morosely. He’d be sent there, and have to listen to Greyback and Bellatrix moan on and on about themselves and the fabulous times they had torturing people. Or the Dark Lord himself, back when he was still Riddle, grandstanding about power or whatnot and obsessing over his looks. No thank you very much. Not that he’d be welcome there, he thought, or at the other one either. What, sit around being ignored while Albus, Lupin, Potter and Black reminisced about the Good Old Days and sang those fatuous Gryffindor house songs? The only upside to that would be he was a very different wizard to the one they bullied at school, they’d quickly regret trying anything on him in the weird post-life station. No, he’d rather go to a nice quiet place with no one else. Some type of abandoned limbo station where abandoned people went when they died. It would probably be full of all sorts of forgotten things like a reflection of the Room of Requirement, Severus thought, which cheered him up somewhat.

What he needed to do, Severus decided, was get over this Granger thing. He vaguely recalled she was quite annoying in school, always showing up Draco, which then meant endless angrily shouted lectures from Lucius about how Severus had failed as a teacher. How else would a _mudblood_ be beating a pure blood so soundly, Lucius would scream in his face. Severus would then have to use every inch of self control not to scream back that Granger actually paid attention to him, studied hard and was obviously more intelligent and gifted than Draco. But that would have been tantamount to suicide. _Ah, good times._ He had remembered saving her life after Potter had dragged her and the others on his thoroughly pointless Department Of Mysteries misadventure. Poppy had hovered, silently competent, beside him as he had healed the dark magic that had opened Granger’s chest cavity. She’d been very small and young, he’d thought at the time, to be fighting in a war. Severus tried to focus on his memories of the young schoolgirl she had been. His mind immediately decided to cooperate by helpfully offering an image of adult Granger in what was certainly _not_ a regulation Hogwarts uniform. Severus sat bolt upright. Well this wasn’t going to help. He should go downstairs and have a cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I know that the station where Harry and Dumbledore spoke was just a transit point. But it was a while ago and I imagine Harry got it a bit messed up on the re-telling, but he would definitely remember the station and being naked.


	10. The attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV notes:
> 
> Hermione’s POV = Hermione/Snape
> 
> Severus POV = Snape/Granger

Half an hour later Severus had settled himself with a tea, a text and a quill. He had managed to wall off those rather intrusive thoughts of Granger and was beginning to relax when she walked into the kitchen. Severus saw her before she noticed him, and he was irritated to find himself a bit disappointed to see how happy she looked. Then Granger saw him and looked even happier.

“Oh hello! Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Not at all, tea?” He offered and poured her a cup when she nodded.

“So, you had an enjoyable night?” Severus asked, stupidly, because he didn’t really want to know if she had.

“Yes, great actually. I’m glad you are up, I wanted to talk you about it.” Severus balked.

“I’m not quite sure how much you need to tell me about your date.” He said.

Hermione blinked, then laughed.

“Oh the date? No, that was actually quite terrible. I went to a seminar afterwards with Luna, it was fascinating.” Snape looked somewhat mollified.

“I see.” He marked his place in the text with his quill as he closed it, which caught Hermione’s attention.

“What’s that you’re reading?” She asked, Snape looked slightly nervous and covered the title slightly with his hand.

“It’s a very old and rare treatise on Legilimacy. It carries a lot of theories of the mind, its interaction with magic and memories. I thought it may have something that would be useful in assisting with your parents.” He explained.

Hermione looked at him steadily, then shook her head.

“You’re very annoying.” She said.

“Probably one of the least derogatory word used to describe me.” Shrugged Snape.

“I’m trying to stop liking you so much and then you go off and do something that makes me like you even more. It’s infuriating.” Hermione said.

“Should I do something terrible to balance it out?” Snape asked. Hermione thought he might have been hiding a smile.

“Depends on what kind of terrible.” Hermione said, and it sounded far more suggestive than she’d intended.

“Why don’t you tell me me about the seminar?” Snape redirected hastily.

“Oh it was on animangi ethics, it was really interesting.” Said Hermione. “I have notes.” She added.

“Of course you do.” Said Snape, but there was affection in his voice.  
  
Hermione smiled at him and opened her mouth to speak when they heard a loud thump from upstairs and shouting. Sharing a quick look, Hermione and Snape ran up the stairs and into the drawing room where they found Arthur Weasley supporting an injured Molly with a overexcited George exiting from the floo behind them. Arthur saw Hermione and Snape.

“Severus, quick, Molly’s been hit by a curse.” He said breathlessly and placed Molly on the nearest armchair

“What happened?” Asked Hermione, as Snape immediately bent over Molly and casting spells.

“Attackers at the Burrow.” Said Arthur, “Three of them.”

“They got Dad’s wand—“ Began George.

“I was taken by surprise!” Arthur said somewhat indignantly.

“Then mum completely kicked their arse. Like, she was out of control.” Said George breathlessly, looking at the prostrated form of his mother with awe. “I think they figured out they were losing so decided to cut and run but they got one curse off that mum wasn’t fast enough to block.”

“I’ve just sent a patronus to Minerva.” Said Arthur.

“I’ll wake Harry and Ron.” Hermione said and dashed off to their bedrooms. By the time she returned with the boys Molly was upright and Snape was still casting a counter-curse around her.

“Mum!” Ron shouted, running to embrace her.

“Mum is bloody scary Ron, you should have seen her. It was insane!”  
  
“Thank you darling.” Said Molly, with an arm around Ron. She peered behind her at Snape. “Ooo you liked the sweater!” She said happily, apparently noticing Snape was wearing it over his pyjamas.

“Yes. It’s.....warm.” Snape said, and adjusted the sweater, potentially striving to regain some semblance of dignity. Hermione felt a warm rush of...something...for the man standing in front of them with dishevelled hair, and a knobbly wool jumper over his borrowed pyjamas. She definitely wanted to kiss him again, she felt very sure of that.

Not long after that both Kingsley and Minerva arrived and were both appraised of the situation by Arthur.

“Do you think this means they know what we are planning regarding Carding?” Kingsley asked Minerva.

“No.” Arthur interrupted. “They were looking for Severus we think. They demanded to know where ‘he’ was, without specifically saying who they meant.”

“I think they thought we might be hiding him, or that they thought we were probably the best option if someone was going to hide him.” Molly said. “I think we were the only Order members left of our generation who-“ She halted abruptly.

“Didn’t try and kill me?” Snape offered. “To be fair, that is an incredibly small list of two.” Minerva and Kingsley shifted uncomfortably but Snape didn’t press the matter.

“It may not be safe to return to the Burrow, you could stay here.” Said Harry to Arthur and Molly.

“No.” Instructed Snape. “You mustn’t change _anything_. Report the attack to the Ministry, Tell Carding himself if you can. Play up how shocking it was and you didn’t know what they wanted and you were confused about their demands. Request Ministry protection.”

“Severus is right.” Agreed Minerva. “Kingsley, how much more time do you need?”

“Only a day or so to finalise interviews, then perhaps a few more to formalise charges. A week at the most.”

“Molly, Arthur, I’m sorry but that means you have to stay clear of the main action for a while.” Said Minerva.

“Interactions with Grimmauld Place will be expected.” Said Snape. “Due to the presence of these three.” He waved a hand in the direction of Ron, Harry and Hermione.

“So, basically try to act normal but not too _suspiciously_ normal?” Asked George.

“Indeed.” Said Snape.

“This is really stressful.” Stated Ron.

“It gets easier after the first decade.” Snape shrugged.

George reluctantly returned to the Burrow with his parents after Snape gave Molly the all clear, and Ron accompanied them, not wanting to be apart from his parents for that night. Minerva and Kingsley were still in an intense conversation and Harry walked over to Snape.

“Thanks for curing Mrs Weasley.” He said. “She’s basically like, well, my mum.”

“No problem Potter.” Said Snape. “Forget about it.” He shifted uncomfortably and walked away, over to Minerva and Kingsley.

“I don’t think he likes being thanked.” Harry sighed to Hermione.

“I think he does, but has literally no idea how to deal with it.” Said Hermione.

“I think I sort of don’t hate him now.” Harry looked almost surprised at what he’d said.

“I think he sort of doesn’t hate us now either.” Hermione laughed, giving Harry a hug.

After Minerva and Kingsley left Harry returned to bed. Hermione lingered to talk to Snape, who was standing very still in the middle of the room, looking vacant.

“They were targeted because of me.” Snape said.

“Snape. Don’t.” Hermione started to say.

“I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me anymore.” He turned to Hermione. “People will try and hurt you because of your association with me once they find out where I am.”

Hermione met his gaze steadily, but quirked one side of her mouth up.

“Well, at least that will make a refreshing change from people trying to hurt me because of my association with Harry or because of my muggle heritage” She said, smiling. He looked askance briefly, than smiled back. She reached across and interlocked her fingers with his, squeezing them gently. Snape looked down at their hands.

“Granger you bloody mad woman.” He said, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in keeping with my, ladeez in charge theme it is Molly here who fights. I don’t see this as too OOC as she does kick Bellatrix’s butt in the last book. So why not!?


	11. Draco and Hermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV reminder:
> 
> Hermione = Hermione/Snape
> 
> Severus = Severus/Granger

Hermione and Draco were side by side on a picnic rug watching King Lear. They’d apparated to Cambridge University for the Shakespeare Festival and Hermione had let Draco choose the tickets. Predictably he was drawn to the one with considerable angst. Hermione had tried various muggle sports with Draco; cricket, rugby, tennis, polo but none drew his interest. It was the one thing she’d found that couldn’t compete in his eyes with the Wizarding version. Hermione didn’t mind, sports weren’t necessarily her favourite outing in any case.

“I did my interview with Potter.” Draco said, still lying on his back.

“Oh great, did it go alright? Did your mum and dad agree to do theirs?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Yes, father took a lot of convincing before he’d agree to take them through his incriminating memories. But if it means he stops bleeding money then...” Draco waved a hand in the air.

“I’m so glad.” Said Hermione. “I’ll be glad when it is all over.” Draco snorted briefly. He rolled towards her onto one elbow and stared at her from underneath his lashes.

“Don’t waste your sexy eyes on me.” Laughed Hermione. “I’m immune.” She pushed him down and lay watching the play with her head on his chest.

“Hermione I have to tell you something.” Hermione smiled as his chest rumbled against her cheek.

“If you are about to laud the cultural superiority of muggles, I’m way ahead of you.” She said.

“No. It’s about the Ministry, and well, everything.”

“Oh boo, stupid Ministry, I was just starting to relax.” Hermione sighed.

“First I wanted to say that your friendship means a lot to me, and I would be devastated if I lost it.” Hermione sat up and looked down at Draco, who had gone very pale.

“What would come between us? I know all your dirty little secrets right?” Hermione tried to lighten the tone of their discussion.

“Not the dirtiest.” Draco smiled, but then his expression darkened again. “Hermione you’ve only got the smallest idea of how infected the Ministry is.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, King Lear momentarily forgotten.

“The Ministry provides an _illusion_ of inclusive democracy, nothing more. Everything behind the illusion is rotten.”

“Surely you’re overdramatising. It can’t be that bad.”

“It really is.”

“Ok, what about things like the Commission?” Hermione argued.

“Oh yes, they set up the Magical Entity Rights Commission to much fanfare, for the protection of all magical entities right?”

“Yes?” Hermione said slowly. Draco looked at her.

“Hermione, tell me what the Commission has actually done, in terms of real change?”

“Legislated Rights for non-human entities, Anti-Discrimination legislation-“ Hermione offered.

“Have any of these been passed into official law yet?”

“Well they’ve all been tabled but we are still getting requests to fine tune...” Hermione trailed off.

“Exactly.” Said Draco. He sat up, and picked up Hermione’s hand, holding it between hers.

“The deradicalisation program.” Began Draco. Hermione tried to pull her hand away, shaking her head.

“No Draco, please.”

“A brainchild of Carding, a way for the younger generation to prove themselves. He knew the war heroes couldn’t resist volunteering for such a worthy cause. Under the auspices of ‘setting us on the right track’ we each would be assigned a ‘Figure of Light’ from the war that we could-“

“Spy on.” Hermione whispered. Draco nodded silently.

“How better to infiltrate?”

“Were you expected to report back?” Hermione asked, her voice thick.

“Yes.”

“Did you....did you report back on me?”

Draco was silent.

“Well did you?” Hermione demanded.

“Yes.” Draco admitted softly and shamefully. “But I haven’t properly for a very long time.”

“Snape was right.” Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Snape?” Draco was momentarily confused.

“It’s like what he said about the Dark Arts when we were at school. Every time we cut off a head, another one comes even fiercer and cleverer....it feels like it’s indestructible.”^

“Hermione.” Draco was still holding her hand, she pulled it away and his face fell. Then she steeled herself and touched his arm.

“It took a lot of guts to tell me all that. And even though everything was built from a lie, I don’t regret a second of the time we’ve spent together. But tell me the truth, did you like anything we went to?” Draco smiled then.

“Everything except cricket, it’s the dullest game ever created.”

“You savage.” Hermione joked from what felt like the gallows.

“It’s funny,” Said Draco, “The fake program, me being assigned to you...it did work. But the opposite way they intended.” Hermione managed a watery smile in return.

“I’m glad.”

Draco reached over and pulled her into a hug.

“I _will_ make you proud of me Hermione. I will prove to you that you weren’t wrong about me.” He breathed into her ear.

They held each other for a while, not saying anything.

————————————

Ron was lounging in the drawing room with a Quidditch magazine when Hermione arrived back home.

“Hey Hermione, how was...Hey are you alright?” He asked, seeing her expression. When her face crumpled he held out his arms and she fell into them, crying.

“Did bloody Malfoy upset you? What did he do?” Asked Ron, rubbing Hermione’s back. She shook her head. Ron, who had learnt a bit more over the past few years on when to talk and when to shut up just hugged Hermione and patted her in what he felt was a soothing manner.

“I need Minerva.” Said Hermione into Ron’s chest. He said nothing but the silvery terrier leapt into existence from his wand and bounded off with the message. Not long after Snape came to the door.

“I assume that was your patronus streaking down the hall Weasley?” He asked, then saw Hermione.

“Granger what’s wrong?”

“She hasn’t said, but something obviously happened with Malfoy today. I’m going to get Harry from work, I won’t risk a patronus to him there. Can you keep her company?” Ron asked, Snape nodded. Ron gently untangled himself from Hermione then gently kissed her forehead.

“I’m getting Harry, I’ll be back soon. Whatever it is, we can deal with it.” He said to Hermione softly, then ran out the door, Hermione heard him apparate outside.

“Draco didn’t hurt you did he?” Snape asked. Hermione shook her head, but then seemed overwhelmed again. Snape sat down next to Hermione and somewhat gingerly put an arm around her. Hermione burrowed into his side, and Snape gathered her up with both arms, resting his chin against the top of her head.

It took a few minutes for Severus to get the story out of Granger, who was very upset. She repeated what Draco had told her about the Ministry, about the Commission, the program and even about Draco’s role. He just listened and held her until she seemed calmer.

“I feel stupid, which I hate.” Granger said sadly, “And I feel everything I’ve done for the past five or so years has been a complete waste of time. And I’m a big fucking joke”

“It wasn’t. You’re not.” Severus pulled her out a little so she could see his face. He took a deep breath.

“Granger, you’ve got no idea what it was like to grow up as someone like Draco. That’s a good thing by the way.” He added when he saw Granger scowl slightly. “Draco was always being used as a tool in relationships, to make his father proud, to threaten his mother into submission and to punish both of them when they failed the Dark Lord. His value was measured entirely in usefulness. One of the reasons he probably hated you so much at school because by outperforming him, it made his life that little bit harder when he went home. The last I dealt with Draco, he was given a horrible task to undertake with the underlying assumption that he would fail, and then would be killed, along with his parents. His parents murdered, because he was tagged as a someone who _could_ _not_ be relied on when it counted.”

Granger just looked at him, listening intently.

“From what he said to you, he cares about what you think of him. Granger, you’re probably one of the few people he knows that actually has any faith in him at all....to be....something more.”

“He _is_ something more. Or, at least I thought he was.” Granger said, uncharacteristically uncertain.

Severus felt his hands move to her shoulders, almost as if of their own accord.

“This was the opportunity you were talking about a few weeks ago. This time you were his influence and he chose the _right_ thing. Without you, we wouldn’t know how extensive Carding’s control is.” He lifted a hand and gently brushed her hair off her wet cheek. She raised her hand and covered his.

“Thank you for saying that, it does make me feel better.” She said.

“I’m not saying it to make you feel better, I’m saying it because it’s a correct and concise summary of what happened.” Severus said.

“You charmer.” Granger laughed.

“You forgive Draco for what he did then?” Severus asked.

“Of course. He’s my friend, even if he is a backstabbing little shit who needs his perfect face pounded in.” Granger added, but some of the affection had returned to her voice.

“Of course.” Echoed Severus. He frowned a little, but in contemplation, not anger. “You’re very loyal.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.” She smiled, and that open expression she’d worn in the library was on her face again.

Severus took advantage of their proximity to trace her jaw with his other hand, the one that wasn’t still captured by hers. She shivered. Severus wanted to kiss her very badly and his self-control was wavering when he heard Potter yelling Granger’s name from the hall. He immediately opened his arms and released her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The speech marked ^ uses words quoted from JK’s work.
> 
> Also, apologies to Draco but I quite like cricket. And for any English readers, we got the Ashes but you got the first one dayer! Some tough matches coming up I think.


	12. The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Reminder
> 
> Hermione’s POV = Hermione/Snape
> 
> Severus’ POV = Severus/Granger

“Who here is a Recovery Mentor?” Minerva asked. Luna and Neville raised their hands. She nodded.

“Well, you heard Hermione’s report. You’re under surveillance. Please adjust appropriately based on this. You must not voice any negativity about the Ministry to your mentee. Nothing about the Order, nothing you don’t want Carding to know about yourself.” Her voice was all steel, a general updating her troops. Which she was, Hermione supposed, given it had become quite apparent the war was not _completely_ over.

Hermione sighed to herself. The worst part of the emergency Order meeting had been updating the group on what she’d learnt from Draco. She’d hated to see the smug “told you so” looks from Charlie and Neville, and Arthur shaking his head with what Hermione thought was pity. Aberforth had started to say something but Snape had turned on him with clearly restrained fury and ordered him to shut his mouth so fiercely that he had, and then sat quietly, looking a little shocked. Snape’s eyes had flickered briefly to hers afterward, then away almost immediately.

“What does this mean?” Asked Bill.

“It means we don’t know what parts of the Ministry are poisoned so we have to act like everything is poisoned.” Said Fleur.

“Fleur’s right. We need to get rid of it all.” Said Kingsley.

“How? Like build a replacement Ministry in secret?” Asked Harry.

“Exactly.” Said Minerva.

“You could keep some of the existing employees,” Said Hermione, who was one and wasn’t completely keen on losing her first job. “But everyone needs to be vetted, via a pensieve.”

“If we were muggles, we’d call this a coup.” Said Luna.

“We don’t want it to be violent.” Argued Minerva, looking a bit disapprovingly at Luna and Snape laughed. She shot him a dark look.

“We want Carding and his associates to be arrested and tried by Wizengamot.” Kingsley said.

“But they would be tainted too, right?” Asked Neville. Luna sighed.

“My source has found money going into the accounts of three Wizengamot representatives. They at least must be viewed with suspicion.” She advised.

“Start gathering evidence against them.” Said Fleur. “When the Aurors arrest Carding, you must simultaneously formally remove as many associates as possible.”

Hermione was sitting between Harry and Ron, who had both taken up these positions as soon as she’d sat down. She could almost feel their support like a solid thing, warm and comforting. She supposed they were trying for intimidating, given Snape’s amused expression when he saw the three of them at the table. After Ron had returned from that mad dash to fetch Harry, they’d both bowled into the room like they were charging into their quidditch opposition. Snape had abruptly dropped his arms just moments before that, and had left the room just as suddenly after their arrival. Harry had outright refused to hear out any apologies from her and told her so. Ron had repeatedly offered to get her tea until she accepted just to shut him up.

“Hermione.” Harry had said. “I know you think are feeling that you let us down. That we supported you about Draco and that you were wrong.” When she had nodded and shrugged he had put an arm around like Snape had, but Harry’s arm didn’t make her shiver. “But you weren’t wrong. He hadn’t lied to you about the Ministry, in fact, you flipped him. Right under Carding’s bloody nose. You flipped that smug git and now he’s ours.” She’d smiled at Harry and he’d smiled back. Then Harry and Ron had made the Ultimate Sacrifice, the one they pulled out when they wanted to really cheer her up. They’d made dinner _without_ assistance from Kreacher. It wasn’t bad either, despite Snape’s look of horror when he entered the kitchen and saw them both in there cooking.

Kingsley had announced during the meeting that the Auror team had conducted over thirty interviews in support of the bevy of arrest warrants. However, in light of Hermione’s update, it was clear the entire Ministry would have been stood down. A group of ‘clean’ witches and wizards had been identified to form an interim governing body until another election could be run, once Carding was arrested. There wasn’t any point removing a corrupt legitimate government and replacing with a long-term illegitimate government, Minerva had said, it left a bad taste in people’s mouths. The Aurors had gathered hundreds of memories, piles of documentation regarding the widespread blackmail as well as evidence Carding had purposely blocked all draft legislation submitted by the Magical Entity Rights Commission by requesting endless amendments. The largest case was the illegal detention, torture and theft of property from Severus Snape.

The guard Bastian had provided years of memories of the treatment of Snape in Azkaban that Harry told Hermione were distressing viewing. Harry had been so distraught that he’d sought Snape out to apologise, talk, anything to make himself feel better about what he saw but Snape had simply shrugged and told him not to worry about it. This nonchalant attitude had upset Harry further and had resulted in Harry constantly shooting Snape concerned looks for half a day until Snape had snapped and spoken to him alone in the library for an hour. Harry didn’t tell Hermione what they’d spoken about, but his face lost the pinched look, and he was more solicitous to Snape after. They’d also exhumed, in secret, the body buried as Snape, which solved the mystery of the whereabouts of Rookwood. They were nearing the time for action.

After the meeting the residents of Grimmauld Place slumped around the table, exhausted. Hermione was about to head off to bed with a book when there was a tap at one of the windows, which of course was an owl. Hermione took the scroll, which was from Draco, asking her if they were still attending the concert together the next day.

“Why doesn’t he just use his patronus?” Ron asked. “So much faster.”

“He can’t cast one.” Said Hermione as she wrote a reply confirming she would be there.

“Really?” Asked Harry.

“That charm wasn’t part of Hogwarts official curriculum.” Said Hermione, “Also, he was made a Death Eater so young and they can’t cast them, so that might be why he is still affected.”

“But Snape can cast one.” Said Harry.

“It is impossible for me to stress how violently opposed I am to becoming a topic in this conversation.” Said Snape, standing up. “Good night.” He stalked out of the room.

“What was that about?” Ron asked, bewildered.

“You’re an idiot Harry.” Said Hermione. “As if Snape wants to be still called a Death Eater. You twat.”

“Oh yeah. I should probably apologise.”

“You think?”

——————————

As she went to bed that night Hermione took a slight detour past the spare room Snape was staying in. She knocked on the door.

“Fuck off Potter!” Came a shout from inside the room.

“Oh. Um. It’s me, Hermione...er...Granger.”

There was silence.

“What do you want?”

“Just to see if you are ok.”

“I’m just fantastically wonderful. Now go to bed.”

“I thought you’d want to have a Firewhiskey with me.” She held up the bottle and sloshed it loudly. There was a pause, then the door swung open slightly, she smiled triumphantly and entered the room.

Snape was sitting on the bed, with his left sleeve rolled up, examining the Mark.

“I thought you were Potter, back for another interminable apology.”

“No, I’m Granger, here for a nightcap.” She transfigured some glasses and gave them each a generous splash. Snape took a long swallow and leant back against the wall. He closed his eyes and his lashes were long and dark against his cheekbones. His sleeve was still rolled up. In the years she’d known Draco, he’d never exposed his Mark, this was the closest Hermione had been to one. It looked....alive still, despite Voldemort’s death and the intervening years.

“Here’s to bad decisions.” Snape said, raising his glass, eyes still closed. Hermione touched her glass to his.

“Well I’m quite familiar with them at the moment. But don’t you want to drink to something else?” Hermione asked.

“It’s what I’ll always be remembered as.” Said Snape. “The turncoat Death Eater.”

“Not just that.” Said Hermione, “You were also the meanest teacher in Hogwarts history.” A surprised laugh escaped Snape, and he turned to look at her.

“Wasn’t there a teacher that murdered some students a hundred years or so ago, or that one that had the hidden torture chamber?” He asked.

“Yes, but I stand by my statement.” Hermione grinned. “Here’s to being memorable.” She clinked her glass against his. They both drank, and Snape shook his head, laughing again,

“And how will _you_ remember me Granger?” He asked, amused.

“Depends what _memorable_ thing you do.” Hermione said, quirking her lip up one side.

Snape looked conflicted for a moment, then he leant forward and captured Hermione’s lips with his. The kiss was incredibly gentle, and Hermione could taste the whiskey on his slightly parted lips. She sighed and moved closer, dropping her tumbler on the bed. Snape’s lips opened against hers and she responded eagerly, moving her hands up to the back of his head to stroke his hair at the nape as his arms went around her. Parts of her body were shouting excitedly at her and strongly suggesting she make a move for his buttons, but she didn’t attempt to undo anything this time, just enjoyed the feeling of his lips on hers and his arms holding her firmly against his chest. Then Snape pulled away and they stared at each other for a moment.

“That’ll do I guess.” Said Hermione, quite breathlessly and he raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want us to...” She started to say.

“All the reasons about why this would be a completely disastrous idea still stand.” Said Snape looking bitterly at his left forearm. “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“Well I’m not. But I think I understand your reasons now. I mean, I don’t agree with you....but I understand.” Hermione said.

“If I were a different man-“ Began Snape.

“Then I wouldn’t be sitting on your bed drinking crappy whiskey.” Hermione said.

“Maybe not.” Snape sighed. “You should probably go to your own room now.”

“Thinking of doing something else memorable?” Hermione teased.

“Possibly.” Snape said archly.

“Well I’ll leave while my chastity remains intact then.” She kissed him on the cheek then left, leaving the bottle of whiskey on the bed. “Night Snape.” She called over her shoulder.

Snape looked at the closed door.

“Fuckity fuck fuck.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I tried to make the women strong here!


	13. The Day of Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV reminder:
> 
> Hermione = Hermione/Snape  
> Snape = Severus/Granger

“I wasn’t quite sure if you’d come.” Said Draco nervously. Hermione took his hand in hers in reply as the quartet started.

At intermission Draco seemed agitated and went to say something several times to Hermione before stopping.

“What’s the matter?” Asked Hermione.

“Carding has demanded to meet with father, he wants to increase the payments.”

“Oh! Have you-“

“I told Potter. The meeting will go ahead, I’ll be using polyjuice. I know how father behaves, and I will ask specific questions they have prepared that if answered can support the charges.” Draco said.

“Draco, that sounds really dangerous.” Said Hermione hesitantly.

“It’ll help. A lot. Kingsley said it could be the nail in the coffin.” Draco explained.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do.”

“Well, you don’t have to do this for me.” Insisted Hermione.

“I’m doing this for us. For our friendship. And for me. And because fuck him.” Draco said angrily and Hermione nodded grimly.

“I suppose I don’t have to tell you to be careful. I wouldn’t want you to die, after all that effort I’ve put into you.” Hermione told him firmly. Draco laughed rakishly, throwing his head back.

“Yes mum.” He said fondly.

————————————

“Where’s Granger?” Severus asked as he entered the kitchen to await the last Order meeting before the planned Day of Action.

“Off researching.” Said Weasley. “She’s got some big project that’s taking up a bit of time. You know Hermione, if she could marry a book she would.”

“It’s something she won’t talk about, which means it’s trouble of some kind.” Observed Potter. “She’ll tell us about it eventually.” He shrugged, obviously used to Granger’s proclivities.

Severus frowned contemplatively, but sat at the table, an action that was almost immediately followed by a steady stream of individuals via the floo. After everyone, sans Granger, was seated Minerva stood.

“This will be hopefully the last meeting of this group-Miss Granger, thank you for gracing us with your presence.” Minerva greeted Granger witheringly as she arrived at the door, a little flushed.

“Sorry, I was, um...doing something.” Granger explained, then looked around for a spare seat. Lovegood waved at her and moved over to create a space.

“As you all know, Draco Malfoy successfully completed the meeting with Carding and his closest Ministry executive, and this memory has been added to the considerable evidence held by the Aurors. Tomorrow Kingsley and his group will conduct simultaneous arrests of Carding and an extensive number of complicit Ministry employees. Our role ends tonight, we assisted in the planning and strategising, however the detention and prosecution of these individuals must be undertaken by the proper authorities. I’d like to thank each of you for your support and efforts in assisting Kingsley and his team to get us to this point.”

The group of individuals clustered around the table looked at Minerva, and some at each other, and one stared at a fixed point in the air.

“The team will arrive at the Ministry at ten tomorrow morning, after the rush of commuters has died down. Those of you with Ministry jobs, please go late to work, or avoid headquarters during this time. We do not know how Carding will respond. Please, everyone, be careful.” Minerva finished abruptly and sat down.

The subdued group quickly dispersed, leaving Severus with the three Gryffindors. Perfect, Severus sighed to himself. Just...perfect. Potter and Weasley were agitated about the arrests the next day so had decided to expel nervous energy by shouting bawdy jokes at each other. Severus had honed his ability to observe someone without appearing to over the years, and he was not overconfident in thinking his technique was flawless. He applied the aforementioned skill to task watching Granger. She seemed preoccupied, probably with her new project Severus mused. Perhaps that meant he was an old project now, Severus thought to himself in a defeatist manner, shelved along with the house elves and trying to make Weasley a decent human being. Sometimes Severus loathed himself, why did he send her back to her room the other night? He knew why, but he was still annoyed with himself about it. She probably would have gone for his buttons again, he pondered, if he hadn’t pulled away, maybe even....Severus gave himself a mental shake. There was no good to come from mooning about Granger like a sad, old man. He just had to get through this Carding business, help Granger with her parents, then move somewhere nice and forget all about...whatever it was that he kept trying to stamp out between them. As Severus was pondering the pros and cons of various cities to himself, Granger caught his eye and smiled at him, full of warmth. His stomach flipped and his heartbeat quickened and his treacherous, traitorous body smiled back at her. Oh fuck.

—————————

Hermione was sitting, slightly agitated, in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, awaiting news of the outcome of the arrests. She’d decided to finally revisit the chapter in Hogwarts: A History about Tom Riddle she was reading just prior to Snape’s arrival from Azkaban when the room exploded around her. Hermione got her shield charm up just in time as curses streaked toward her, hitting her shield with such force she was thrown against the wall. She was winded, but immediately scrambled to her feet, recasting the shield and firing back at her five attackers.

She flipped the long table to provide something to shelter behind, they were firing curses thick and fast now. She flicked off a nasty hex which caught an attacker in the face, and he screamed and went down.

“You’re dead mudblood,” One of them screamed and Hermione just missed the bolt of green from the killing curse by ducking to the right. _Shit_. _Shit!_ She thought. _There’s too many._ She blasted the cupboard behind one, showering her with splinters and was faintly pleased to hear a scream. Hermione bounced three rapid stunners off the wall, watching them rebound and connect with one body with a dull thud. The attacker slumped down. The others redoubled their efforts against Hermione, and the table was pulled apart in front of her. Hermione turned quickly, blinding them with a flash of light and another one went down under her stun. Hermione moved to her left and swore as a curse hit her wand hand. She sent out a wandless hex, which hit the shield of one of the wizards strongly enough to knock him back a few steps.

The door blew inward off its hinges and Snape stormed into the kitchen like a black cloud, sending two attackers hard against the ceiling.

“Fuck, it’s Snape!” One attacker shouted but he was unconscious seconds later after being smashed into the floor by a flick of Snape’s wand. Another charged Snape, but Hermione shot out a trip jinx and as he fell Snape kicked him in the face. Snape stomped on the dropped wand, breaking it as he spun and froze the last attacker with an immobilising spell,

“Did you call her mudblood?” Snape asked in a dangerously soft voice. The wizard stared at him with wide eyes.

“Yes.” Said Hermione, getting to her feet. “But don’t kill him, they’ll want to interrogate them.”

Snape pressed the tip of his wand very hard into the vulnerable point below the man’s right eye.

“I won’t kill you. But you should thank Granger here for that.” He punched the wizard in the face, who lolled unconscious but upright, still held by the immobilisation spell.

“Are you alright?” Snape asked Hermione as she stood gingerly.

“I’m fine. A little shaken and my wrist is toast. Thanks for-“

“Nothing. You were doing fine, I just came in at the end to be the big hero.” Snape said, deflecting her praise.

“Of course you did.” Said Hermione, moving towards him and embracing him.

“Thank you.” She repeated looking up at Snape. “You were just in the nick of time.”

“There is no way five Death Eaters could take down Hermione Granger, First Order of Merlin recipient.” Snape said, smiling down at her. She grinned back, then her smile faltered somewhat

“Would you really have killed that man?” She asked.

“No, I’d like to think I’m done with that. But, well he didn’t know that. And besides, I do have a reputation to uphold.” He grimaced. Seeing his discomfort she decided to change the subject.

“You were quite unconventional back there.” Commented Hermione, looking around at the debris and unconscious attackers.

“Well, I got used to fighting without a wand while in Azkaban. Brutal, a little painful, but effective and unexpected.” Explained Snape, flexing his hand experimentally. Hermione looked down saw his knuckles were bleeding.

“I’ll get the dittany.” Said Hermione. Snape opened his mouth to reply when a stag patronus galloped into the room and Harry’s voice rang out.

_“Hermione, get out of there!! It’s gone to shit here. Five of Carding’s men made a run for it. They could be heading your way.”_

“Typical Potter.” Snape snorted, looking at the patronus with exasperation.

“Better late than never I guess.” Said Hermione, laughing at his expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do veer a little bit into ‘Severus to the rescue’ trope here, but I wanted to have Hermione giving it a good go first, and him aware of that.


	14. The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Reminder:
> 
> Hermione = Hermione/Snape  
> Severus = Severus/Granger

The Day of Action had passed, the arrests had been made and Carding and a significant number of associates were in custody, including those who attacked Grimmauld Place. But it had, as Harry succinctly put it, _gone to shit._ After their surprise arrival and upon announcing their warrants, the aurors had come under immediate attack. The team had made careful preparations, so were well shielded when the Ministry officials refused to go quietly but it was a long, drawn out skirmish. Five aurors ended up in St Mungo’s and one Ministry official was killed when his own curse rebounded. Carding was not involved in any violence, however Snape pointed out this was likely because he’d quickly assessed how it would play out, and had decided that surrendering quietly may mean shorter imprisonment. He was ever the wily politician. He’d denied all the charges naturally, and one of the first priorities of the team had been to ensure the Wizengamot was cleaned of corruption in preparation for the trials.

When Potter and Weasley had come home that day they had both been exhausted, and had slept for fourteen hours before leaving again for work and for the beginning of the interrogations. Granger had been stood down from her position pending passing her vetting interview, but had been out most of the time, giving suspiciously implausible excuses for her absences.

Severus was alone in the house thinking about his future. The interim government had made noises about returning his property at Spinners End, but for the moment he was still in the spare room upstairs. He was wondering how much he could sell his house for and perhaps even where to go after that when Minerva popped around to visit. They took advantage of the absence of the other residents to fully occupy the drawing room and set up a reasonably decadent afternoon tea.

“Miss Granger came to see me at Hogwarts.” Said Minerva, pouring the tea.

“Looking for a change of career?” Severus asked, he didn’t recall Granger mentioning she planned a future in teaching.

“She didn’t come to see me about a job.” Minerva leant back in her chair and fixed him with a stern stare.

“I see.” Said Severus, who didn’t, but had learnt very young that if someone wanted to say something then the best course of action was to let them do it in their own time.

“She told me she was intending on pursuing a romantic relationship with you.”

Severus spat out the mouthful of tea he had just drunk in surprise and then Vanished it while thinking what to say. Minerva eyed him over her cup.

“She then suggested that if I had a poor opinion of the match I could insert my head into another part of my body which I am certain would not be biologically possible without some very dark magic.”

Severus stared, still lost for words.

“I might have expressed some surprise at the idea of you two as a couple. Miss Granger then proceeded to remind me of a range of my youthful escapades which even I had forgotten. Some, she suggested, wouldn’t be a ‘good look’ for a Headmaster of a school.”

“Oh.” Said Severus, who had no idea what to say. Was _that_ what Granger had been spending her time researching? The side project? “Minerva, I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t. Miss Granger informed me of that as well. But she seemed to think you held my opinion in high regard, and your fear of my disapproval was a stumbling block so to speak. She even put forward the idea that my decision to voice to all and sundry my very overwhelming support of any potential relationship would be a _very wise_  choice.” Minerva said primly. Severus shrugged helplessly and Minerva shook her head and smiled warmly. He relaxed somewhat at her expression.

“Oh Severus, if you would insist on falling for Gryffindor women it would have made it easier if you’d just been sorted into our House.” Minerva observed. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure Granger is pure Gryffindor, she did try and blackmail you after all.” Severus pointed out. Minerva sipped her tea thoughtfully.

“Yes, perhaps. Maybe there is just enough snake in that lion to keep you on your toes.”

“So you don’t have any objections?” Severus asked cautiously.

“I don’t, I’m too terrified of Miss Granger.” Minerva said winking. “Severus, I just want you to be happy. Go, love, blackmail people, whatever it is Slytherin people do.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Severus said smoothly.

“In any case, she likes you _very_ much, she was quite fierce with me.” Minerva laughed. “But I think you could do with a bit of fire in your life, as well as someone that is prepared to put so much effort into securing your happiness. Even if it appears to be mainly threatening your friends at present.” Minerva finished her tea smugly, it was nice to have the upper hand with Severus for once. Bless young love.

“You’re probably right Minerva.” Said Severus, who felt uncharacteristically lighthearted. “You usually are.”

—————————————

“I think I can help your parents.” Said Snape from the doorway. Hermione was reading on her bed and looked up.

“Oh! Really?”

“I’ve organised an international portkey, I thought while you weren’t working...er.....maybe would be a good time to go.”

“I’d love to. When do you-“

“Sooner rather than later.” Said Snape. Hermione’s face fell, he probably wanted to finalise everything so he could leave. She really didn’t want him to leave.

“Well, I’ll just pack a few things. I was anticipating I’d need a few days to try and reverse the spell, then if it worked and they remembered me....” Hermione trailed off. Snape shrugged.

“The portkey is one way. We can take as much time as you need.”

“Oh...um.....we?” Asked Hermione, Snape came into the room and sat on the bed.

“Minerva told me about your visit.”

“Ah.”

“You obviously took some inspiration from our discussion on vulnerabilities and leverage.” Severus said.

“Well you always were a good teacher.” Granger commented, and Severus felt his lip curl, he didn’t want to be reminded they had that type of relationship. He decided to skip any questions on how and why and jumped straight to his real focus of interest.

“She seemed to think you....liked me a lot.”

“I told you I did. Didn’t you believe me?”

“At the time I believed you _thought_ you did. Perhaps I don’t see myself as particularly likeable.”

“I see. And now?” Granger asked hopefully.

“I still don’t think I’m likeable, but should probably take advantage of the fact that you do.”

“Perfectly Slytherin.” Said Granger happily.

“Said the blackmailer.” Laughed Severus and she blushed. Then he reached over and placed a hand on her arm. “I think I’m a lost cause, in a lot of ways. But I’m also not an idiot. I think you are worth, well, trying to be likeable for. Or, at least an approximation of it.”

“But you don’t have to try anything.” Argued Granger. “I like you just the way you are. Because of the way you are.”

Severus wasn’t quite sure what to say, he had sailed into uncharted waters.

“I just don’t want you to end up hating me.” He said, thinking perhaps saying the thought out aloud would render its power over him obsolete.

“Well, I don’t want you to end up hating me either. We both can be pains in the arse, how about we acknowledge that point and agree to treat each with kindness and respect. And no hexes in the face or back.” Hermione suggested.

“I also don’t want you to be ostracised from your friends.”

“Oh they would basically die in a day without me. They wouldn’t dare.” Granger said grinning.

“Ah.” Said Severus, those were his greatest concerns, discarded by Granger like they were nothing.

“The boys are away....” Suggested Granger. “I think I remember making a couch proposition once?” Severus blushed, as if he could forget. But he wasn’t sure leaving a perfectly good bed to move to a perfectly uncomfortable couch was the right idea. He widened the bed nonverbally and closed the door and she smiled.

“Oh now _this_ is promising.” She reached over to him and pulled him down onto the enlarged bed.

It was a good thing he did have exceedingly well developed self-control, as the sight of Granger—sorry, Hermione—naked, seriously threatened to bring the evening to a very premature end. But Severus rallied, refusing to let the last six years of celibacy ruin A Good Thing and he thought he’d done a reasonable job once she was writhing beneath him. When she clutched at his back, shaking and calling his name...well...that had done it. She’d seemed inordinately pleased afterwards, smiling and kissing him thoroughly, then draped herself across his body and promptly fell asleep. He didn’t really want to sleep immediately himself, so lay quietly for a while, stroking her hair and listening to her even breathing. He thought perhaps if he fell asleep something bad would happen. Then he remembered her in the kitchen downstairs, holding her own against the five attackers trying to kill her. He let himself relax and gradually drift off.

Hermione woke an hour or so later, initially confused to be lying on a warm chest, then she grinned to herself as she remembered. That had certainly been a very impressive debut, she thought, turning her head to look at Severus. He was asleep, and she felt a fierce protectiveness seize her as she let her gaze move from his peaceful face in slumber to the assortment of scars that began at the neck and ended at his feet. Hermione had been thrilled (ecstatic even) to discover that he brought the same singular focus and intensity to the bedroom that he had to every other aspect of his life,. She sighed, she probably liked him more than he suspected, maybe she even loved him, but she thought she’d keep that to herself for the time being. At her small sound his eyes opened, waking almost instantly. He looked briefly confused, as she had, then looked down and saw her.

“Hello.” She said, smiling.

“Hello.” Severus replied, smiling back.

“That was lovely, really lovely.”

“Yes it was.” Severus agreed, and he traced a finger across her collarbone. Hermione shivered.

“Was that a good shiver or a bad shiver?” Severus asked idly.

“Definitely good.”

“Hmmmm.”

“And what does hmmmmm mean?” Asked Hermione.

“I’m collecting information for my newest research project. Things that make Hermione Granger shiver.” Severus said, circling the finger down her sternum.

“A research project I enthusiastically endorse.”

“Your support is noted, and that one?”

“Good.” She laughed.

“Excellent. And how about...”

“Let me think....Good.”

“Now lets see with this one.”

“Mmmmm definitely good.”

“Interesting, maybe if we try just a bit lower. Like....right here.”

“Oh!”

“Let’s mark that tentatively as _Very Good_ and conduct a more thorough analysis.”

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That’s the end. Thanks so much everyone for reading and I hope you liked it. Thanks for kudos and commenting if you did that too!
> 
> My only point on this chapter is, I can see Hermione trying her hand at blackmail. The canon portrayal was quite ruthless when she wants!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Restoration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541973) by [Grooot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grooot/pseuds/Grooot)




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